

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

®i^apPZ5 0np5rig]^i !f o. 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, 





















I 










V 


ft 



ft ^ 


># 


« 



I 




% 




I » 


I 


/ 


1 


I 




k 





- ' "t 
- 1 - ‘ 

*• ■ • 

.‘ •' ' 


t a. 






1 


A MEMBER OE TATTERSALL'S 


A NOVEL 


1 


BY 



HAWLEY SMART 

t f 


AUTHOR OK 

FALSE START,” “FROM POST 'lO FINISH,” 
“SADDLE AND SABRE,” ETC. 


“LONG ODDS,* 


AVU ) 


NEW YORK 

LOVELL, CORYELL & COMPANY 

43, 45 AND 47 EAST TENTH STREET 


' " : 

,V4» "*/• . . ■ • > . ' 

■/yAi '.‘ • . 



Vi,f 


W: 




IV 

t b> 

Ig 


Gr 






.BTZaT7:00 


io »v^ 




ii t ,M/. 5 lD 

, T jrn\Y<ioH .j-iK—- J 




:i/ 

ZJ .Hi 

* ■ ' 

. Jj . • TA ;>Z!>rcXB 7 -.V'T 

, : Zv> r. rv//, 7 ! 

.'77M-*« .V 

Copyright, 1892, 


, . BY-* ^ - 


LOVELL, CORYELL & COMPANY , 



V,.y, 


• ' *. 7 :^L > 

XI 

.7 ••■ ! 'TAnai--.x 
V v:-';:a .ilH - JX 



CONTENTS, 


5 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I.— Mr. Horwich, M.T., 7 

II.— St. Katherine’s, 23 

III. — Lizzie Penistone, 37 

IV. — Looking Back at the Trial, . . . .51 

V.— Mr. Dawes of Doncaster, .... 65 

VI.— Cis Fladbury’s Advice, 80 

VII.— Mr. Abednego, . . ... . .95 

VIII.— The Falcon Hotel, 109 

IX.— Colonel and Mrs. Gunnersley, . . .126 

X.— Emily Loses her Temper, . . . .143 

XI.— The First Rift, 158 

XII.— Chantage, 171 

XIII. — The Old Menu, ...... 187 

XIV. — Lizzie’s Confession, 202 

XV.— The Council of Three, 214 

Conclusion, 228 






v^. 




I’.; . . • x mTi 

' ■ t'H . “ ' . • . . . 

.T .V. .fll£ , ., ../I; • 

™.,o.i!ii» sn'BCT.a'n'h silj lo liom-iM all* 

I«,i jklol <i!r4-S<nlloVi )o <>'1^^ 

■M! iimw, “ ‘• 

■Urn,.,,) 

i;v»«u.d,, W.kiu.kv -thr 

„|Jr • k-j-vf 'to ’'%“'i;;S.k 

■kdiots: -.. 

•EoV U'fto \0Sii -‘^ : 



A MEJIBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 


CHAPTER I. 

MR. HORWICH, M. T. 

The turmoil of the day’s racing was over, 
and about the long table in the coffee-room of 
the George Hotel at Nottingham were collected 
a lot of sporting men, whom the pursuit they 
followed had for the time thrown promiscu- 
ously together. They consisted mainly of book- 
makers of the better class, hut sprinkled among 
them were a few of their habitual foes, or shall 
I say victims? who numbered themselves 
among the gallant army of backers. The 
battle had been fierce that day; men had 
wagered in the wild way that they did in the 
plunging era of twenty years ago, and for 


8 


.4 MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 


once in a way the fielders had had the worst 
of it. The luck had run against them all 
through the meeting; the “odds on favorites” 
had always managed to scrape through, 
thotigh more than once the finish had been so 
close that their supporters -had quaked for 
their money, and even when one not quite 
such a favorite in the market had got home in 
front, he turned out to have been backed to 
win a heavy stake by those immediately con- 
nected with him. 

“Well, Captain,” said a stout, florid man, 
“you’ve had a rare innings this time; I reckon 
I’m stone broke. I haven’t had such a meet- 
ing since that awful. Doncaster four years ago, 
when you gentlemen well nigh ‘skinned the 
lamb.’ Don’t you remember, how none of 
you could go wrong, and how rumor said that 
three or four of you had broke the ring, and 
there would be no settling on Monday? There 
was, though, but it was a tight fit for a good 
many of us.” 

“Yes, Horwich, I remember,” replied the 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' 8. 9 

gentleman addressed, a tall, good-looking fel- 
low with a heavy blonde mustache and most 
insouciant ma,nner; “those were times. I 
don’t suppose backers ever gave you such a 
dressing all round, either before- or since. 
We’ve done well here, but nothing to that.’’} 

“No,” laughed the bookmaker. “We 
couldn’t stand many weeks like that. I was 
never so put to it to find the money since I 
began ; and there was very little helping one 
another, for we were all in the same boat. 
By the way, sir, you used to know Mr. Craft ; 
you know who I mean — the gentleman there 
was that trial about afterwards. He was ter- 
ribly hard hit. Have you ever heard any- 
thing of him lately?” 

“No,” replied Captain Fladbury, somewhat 
sui’prised. “ Why, -what makes you ask?” 

“You knew him pretty well, sir?” said 
Horwich. 

“Yes. I was at college with him, but I 
never saw much of him afterwards.” 

“Well, it’s a curious thing,” continued the 


10 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 

bookmaker, “he was said to have left Eng- 
land immediately after that trial; it was a 
closeish thing, if you '(recollect, although he 
got off. I heard the other day he had come 
back.” 

“Yes,” rejoined Fladbury> “but the man 
was acquitted of that robbery, and he can’t be 
tried over again for it.” 

“No, sir,” replied the bookmaker but it’s 
a queer story. This Mr. Howden Craft was 
one of the very few gentlemen who had an 
awful Doncaster that year. You see he kept 
a few horses, and though he knew a bit more 
about it than those who had been at it for 
years. He meant pulling off two or three 
very good things at that meeting, and, to do 
him justice, he did go very near, but as it 
was he lost a lot of money, some of it to me. 
Well, he went round to ask for a bit of time, 
but, bless you, we were all so hard hit, we all 
wanted what little we could lay our hands on. 
He was in a frantic state when he found that 
he must either settle sharp or be posted as a 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 


11 


defaulter. You see, he had that flying Lady 
Teazle, with which he won the Cambridge- 
shire afterwards, in the stable, about whom 
nobody knew anything, and knew he could 
win it all back if he could only keep out of 
the defaulter’s list.” 

“Well, Horwich,” said Fladbury, without 
removing his cigar from his lips and with the 
air of a man somewhat bored with the sub- 
ject, “he got the money and paid up — Jews, 
I should think — won a big stake at New- 
market not two months later, so got out of 
his scrape cleverly. Don’t think much of 
your story. This sort of thing has happened 
to most of us.” 

“No, but look here. Captain,” replied the 
bookmaker emphatically; “this Craft is des- 
perately hard up for money on the Thui*sday, 
his uncle is robbed on the Saturday, and on 
Monday afternoon he has plenty of stuff with 
which to pay us all at’ Tattersall’s. Put that 
and that together.” 

“That’s exactly what the twelve men in the 


13 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 


box who tried him did,” retorted the Captain, 
W’ith a shrug of his shoulders, “ and came to 
the conclusion, as far as I remember, that he 
didn’t commit the robbery, because at the 
time he was proved to be two hundred miles 
or so away. ” 

“Ah, but I can tell you a bit more than 
that,” said Mr. Horwich, with a knowing 
glance. 

Suddenly a gleam of interest shot across 
Fladbury’s face. 

“ What does it matter to either you or me, ” he 
said, in his usual indolent manner, “ whether 
Craft committed the robbery or whether he 
did not?” Then suddenly changing his tone 
he looked his companion straight in the face 
and added : “ What interest have you in know- 
ing?” 

Mr. Horwich looked confused, hesitated, and 
even seemed what his interlocutor had never 
yet seen him, at a loss for an answer. 

“Well, Captain,” he said at length, “you 
may have seen by the papers that Mr. Craft’s 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALV8. 13 

uncle is just dead. Now I know more about 
him than you do, and I tell you this Howden 
Craft is a pretty bad lot. He’d most likely 
come into a bit of money, I fancy. Now I 
want him to do the straight thing.” 

“Owe you much?” asked the Captain lacon- 
ically. 

“Don’t owe me a stiver,” retorted Mr. Hor- 
v.dch. “I wouldn’t bother about myself, but 
I want him to act right to those who’ve a 
claim on him. And just between you and 
me, I think he’s more likely to run straight if 
I’ve a pull over him.” 

“ As I have said, I don’t know much about 
him, but it’s always as well to have the whip 
hand of a shifty one,” remarked Fladbury 
vaguely. 

“That’s just it,” continued the bookmaker 
eagerly; “business is business. And if I lay 
you a point shorter odds than you ought to 
have, it’s all in the way of trade, remember, 
and you mustn’t tbink the worse of me for 
that. ‘ Human nature’s human nature, and 


14 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’ S. 

we ring-men are much the same as you swells 
when you come to our feelings. You wouldn’t 
see a good girl bullied and ill-treated by a good- 
for-nothing cur, more especially if you had a 
sharp bit in his mouth. That’s what I’m 
aiming at.” 

“I don’t see,” said Fladbury, “how I can 
help you; but if you’re going to champion 
all young women who’ve been badly treated, 
you will find your hands pretty full ” 

“No matter, you can help me if you will. 
For instance, you knew Craft’s uncle, Mr. 
Elton?” 

“Yes. I have stayed at St. Katherine’s; 
and also know his daughter. Miss Elton. She 
comes into the property no doubt, and a very 
nice thing to come in for too.” 

“That’s it, sir, that’s it again. You can 
help me. Captain Fladbury, in the way I want. 
I haven’t got the whole case ciphered out to 
my mind yet, but as soon as I have. I’ll tell 
you the story. A line to your club will al- 
ways find you, I suppose, sir?” 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALUS. 15 

“Yes,” replied Fladbury, “but now I shall 
go and get a breath of fresh air outside. It’s 
rather close in here.” ' 

When Cis Fladbury got into the street and 
continued walking up and down on the pave- 
ment in front of the hotel, it was most as- 
suredly with no idea of thinking over Hor- 
wich’s rather prosy story; and yet somehow 
he could not get the thing out of his head. 
He really felt no interest in Howden Craft or 
what became of him. He had never known 
much of him — they had been acquaintances at 
college, but never intimate. After leaving 
the University he had seen but little of him 
and yet for a short time there had been one 
week in each twelve-month which they usually 
spent in the same_ country house. Ten years 
ago Mr. Elton, then a hale, active man of 
fifty, had been in the habit of gathering his 
friends around him at St. Katherine’s for the 
Doncaster week. 

Very pleasant indeed had those gatherings 
been, and as the son of his father, who was an 


16 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 

old friend of Mr. Elton’s, Cecil Pladbury had 
been a constant guest there, as also had been 
Howden Craft. These went on for about six 
years, when the robbery of which Horwich had 
spoken took place. It had been attended with 
considerable violence; indeed, so roughly had 
Mr. Elton been handled that he never got over 
it; and that was the last party ever assembled 
at St. Katherine’s for Doncaster races. The 
injuries Mr. Elton received on that occasion, 
there could be no doubt, considerably shortened 
his life. It had all happened a good four years 
ago, and faded pretty well out of Fladbury ’s 
memory, until Horwich recalled it to his recol- 
lection. Now it all came vividly back to him. 
They had all dispersed, he remembered, on the 
Saturday morning, and on the afternoon of 
that day Mr. Elton, who was known to have 
won a considerable sum of money at Don- 
caster, was attacked on his way into the town, 
where he was going to deposit his winnings in 
the bank, and robbed. He called to mind the 
arrest of Howden Craft, and the strong feel- 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALU 8. 17 

ing there was at the time that the magistrate 
who committed him for trial had made a mis- 
take. Craft had not seen the meeting out, 
but left on the Friday morning for London; 
and when arraigned for the robbery, proved 
conclusively that he had dined at seven o’clock 
in London on the Saturday, and that it was 
perfectly impossible for him to have committed 
that robbery in the afternoon and yet to have 
been present at this dinner in the evening; 
that not even a special train could have con- 
veyed him to town fast enough, and that 
even had that been possible the railway offi- 
cials must certainly have cognizance of such a 
fact. 

One thing struck him as singular. Hor- 
wich spoke positively of Howden Craft being a 
loser at that meeting. Now it was one of 
those rosy times which engrave themselves 
upon the memory, and Cis felt certain that 
Craft had made no complaint of that nature. 
He was a reticent man, no doubt, neither given 

to exult over his good fortune, nor make moan 
2 


18 A MFAtBFE OF TATTERS ALV S. 

when the battle ran against him ; but still on 
such occasions men do wax confidential in the 
smoking-room, and talk over the day’s doings; 
and with such a Doncaster as this, had been, 
such talk had been pleasant subject of conver- 
sation to the whole party. No ; Horwich was 
all wrong. He had been avowedly so hard hit 
himself that he probably got utterly confused 
over the whole business, and thought because 
Craft had lost a bit of money to him that he 
was likewise a heavy loser on the meeting. 

Fladbury really ought to have known better. 
Had he not experienced, had he never come 
home in a carriage the inmates of which were 
all in the highest spirits, and, as he listened to 
their tale of success, muttered low beneath his 
mustache, Every one has won but me?” 

Confound the thing! he would think of it 
no more. He had been awfully sorry about 
the whole business at the time — grieved to 
hear that his genial host had been so knocked 
about by some tramping ruffian, who had 
probably attacked him treacherously from be- 


A MEMBER OF TATTER8ALL' 8. 1'9 

hind in the first instance ; otherwise Mr. Elton 
was a hale man for his years, and likely to 
have made a sturdy resistance to any single 
nomad of the highways. What favored this 
supposition, too, was the fact that when he 
recovered his senses he declared that he should 
be utterly unable to identify his assailant, even 
should the police succeed in laying hands upon 
him. And even when told that his nephew 
had been arrested on suspicion, replied queru- 
lously, “ It might as well be him as any one 
else, for all I can say about it.” Then Miss 
Elton recurred to his mind, and he wondered 
what would become of her. He had known 
her from a school-girl; she was a pretty girl, 
and a well-dowered one to boot. It was odd 
she should be still unmarried, and yet it must 
be so, or he would assuredly have heard of it ; 
still she had lived a very retired life ever since 
her father had met with such brutal treat- 
ment. The miscreant who assaulted him had 
turned a hearty middle-aged gentleman into a 
decrepit old man; and Emily Elton had de- 


20 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL' S. 


voted herself to her father and declined all 
country visiting that took her away from heme 
for more than the day. 

Another thing occurred to him was, what 
assistance could he be to the lx>okmaker? He 
didn’t exactly know what Horwich wanted; 
that he was desirous of getting a hold of some 
sort upon Howden Craft was clear enough, but 
what use he intended to make of it, should he 
succeed in obtaining it, Cis Fladbury had so 
far no idea. That was a point, too, upon 
which he must be fully informed before he 
stirred a finger in the matter. He cared noth- 
ing about Craft, but he was not going to help 
to put a poor devil under the screw without 
knowing why the winch was to be applied. 
As far as he could see, the only possible use he 
could be to Horwich was in ascertainingwhether 
Howden Craft had come into any money under 
his uncle’s will, and that probably was just 
what the bookmaker was anxious to know. 

^^Bah!” he muttered, ‘^an ordinary case of 
chantage, no doubt, and my friend Horwich 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 


n 


understands that, as the French have it, there’s 
no making a bird sing that can’t — you can’t get 
money out of a man who hasn’t got it. And 
Horwich probably thinks it as well to be certain 
on that point before he troubles himself further 
about fitting on the thumb-screws. He’s not 
a bad sort, like many of his brethren, abused 
often as they are ; but he owned having a little 
private feeling against Craft, and I think, 
Master Howden, if he ever has your thumbs 
in the nippers he’ll give ’em an extra squeeze. 
You had better not have come home, if he can 
rake up anything against you. By the way, 
what the deuce brought him home? His 
uncle’s death, no doubt. That looks as if, 
whether he inherits anything or no, he ex- 
pected to. Ah, well, that explains the whole 
thing. No doubt he owes money in the ring, 
and before he went abroad told Horwich or 
some of them that he would ‘hook up’ at his 
uncle’s death — that he should come into a hit 
of money then, and would settle with them 
•all round. Horwich, however, don’t seem to 


n 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 


think his word is as good as his bond, anyhow. 
Time to turn in and sleep the sleep of the just. 
Talk about narcotics, bosh! there’s nothing 
like a real good day on the race-course to make 
one sleep.” o v ] ii ^ t i ':;i t 8 

i; in if f OT 

- an 1 YiOT^i aOirfY J.>ita v: //ran 

.Uj woji di Oil/7 7[);tl 

hrmI*iO<!ia yiiaod hiiji 'gar*‘'!ad 

llO.TkrI 7laii3- ^d'uifhvdjii ■ Jc: ba; n*r/ 7^=' -n 

y/oi idiii ‘jfll 'i-r/Ci rn?' ;!: - Y.i:Y;-r y 

4i df; bni* ’> '•• ■-‘I - 1 . ^ 

,dy >nx i. od.1 u - ■* . r 

xindi d;^ai'Wii.rj;g« v.»>u - ^ 

noilS- .'fV- yja; 

io lnuiii r;f ] -Mlj nj ii /n .*, . 

M • . ' \ r ' ' 

'-Oiao> biiii iii J . f ^ 

/ '■ ■ ^ T.rPi 

rni ‘i/xi. n .t-iI xyx 

..r 

lKH|b ini) Vii iva bllfi 
.fii :fcid J. lu.y.'! ‘Jii 

£ 1 /l. - ^ 

- . ,PUU UV. :.^.U/V 


.e.'j-Af HO HAH’ ; f 

.■wotTYfift .tiffoc.r^iff Si, ' -i ! •■O'//- pul ;,1 'irf; 

■4ir^ 'to r t ; -o f 

^cjnidton o' ^ii> ' ' ' o i - • oi: 

Jto - .:: CHAPTER 11. ^ ; 

ST. KATHERINES. 

Sitting in a bay window of a many-gabled 
house between two and three miles from Don- 
caster is a young lady Avho is now mistress of 
all those smiling fields and bonny moorland 
that lies around St. Katherine’s. Emily Elton 
was thinking rather sadly over the last few 
years. Her father had died, as it happened, 
just about the time of the Doncaster races, 
and she mused over the gay gatherings there 
used to be in the old house before Mr. Elton 
had been struck down by the ruthless hand of 
that vagrant robber. Life had been some- 
what dull for her, since she had found her 
father left both a cripple and an invalid upon 
her hands. It had been no fault of his; he 
had borne his affliction bravely. An active 

man, he had never repined when, on finding 
23 


U A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 

himself lame for life, he had to abandon both 
gun and saddle. He, who hardly knew what 
a day’s illness was, bore like a stoic the con- 
stant attacks of neuralgia, an inheritance 
which his brutal assailant had bequeathed to 
him. He was not an exacting father to Emily 
by any means; on the contrary, he had no 
wish to chain her young life to his invalid 
chair, and compel her to share the monotony 
of his own. He was always trying to per- 
suade her to mix more freely in the gaieties 
of the neighborhood ; but if he was an indul- 
gent father, she was a devoted daughter, and 
positively refused to leave home for any length 
of time while he lived. She had been busy 
with Mr. Dawes, her father’s country lawyer, 
that morning, and knew that house and lands 
were now all her own. It was not a large 
estate, but one which, for all that, yielded a 
very comfortable income, and was utterly un- 
encumbei’ed. She thought of that terrible 
evening when her father was brought in all 
covered with blood, and so severely injured 


MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 25 

that he was even unable to state what had 
occurred, of the weary weeks of nursing, of the 
anxious interviews with the doctors, of the 
hue and cry for the robber or I’obhers, and of 
that final horrible sensational act in the 
drama, of her cousin Howden being arrested 
as the culprit and put upon his trial. What 
a sad, sad time she had of it; how her heart 
had been torn with conflicting feelings, fierce 
thirst for vengeance on the assailant of her 
father, and burning indignation that the myr- 
midons of the law should have dared to suspect 
her cousin Howden of being the perpetrator of 
the outrage ! 

She had known Howden from her childhood , 
and was very fond of him. He had made 
rather a pet of her when she was a little girl, 
had often interposed successfully when her 
waywardness had provoked her governess to a 
stern enforcement of discipline. They had 
been good cousins later on, and it was quite 
posible that, without any passionate enthusi- 
asm (they had known each other too long for 


26 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 

that), they might have joined hands for life; 
but the utter ruin of Mr. Elton’s health had 
changed all this. HoAvden Craft had left St. 
Katherine’s the day before Mr. Elton took 
that walk of ill-omen into Doncaster, and had 
never crossed its threshold since. It was sin- 
gular that he should not have come down to see 
his uncle, an uncle too with whom he had been 
always such a favorite, but so it was. He had 
written once or twice to herself, to inquire 
after him, particularly requesting that his 
uncle might not be informed of such letters, 
but he had never volunteered a visit ; and as 
soon as a jury of his countrymen had ac- 
quitted him of the crime, he had gone abroad, 
to America it Avas rumored. Still there Avas 
this to be said: Mr. Elton peremptorily de- 
clined to receive all visitors at that time. 
Many of his old friends had wished to come 
down and see him for a few days, but he de- 
clared that he was not equal to it, all of which 
Emily Elton in her heart suspected as not 
being quite the truth. She feared, indeed. 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’ S. 

that the shock to his nervous system had been 
so severe that he would contract a morbid dis- 
like to seeing any one ; but after a few months 
he got better, and during the remainder of his 
life many of his intimates often spent a few 
days with him, but he always displayed an un- 
conquerable aversion to having any one at St. 
Katherine’s during the Doncaster race week. 

The hearing of her father’s will might well 
bring all the sad story back to Miss Elton. 
That everything would be left to her was 
only what she had a right to expect and what 
her father had always given her to under- 
stand; that there should be a legacy of ten 
thousand pounds left to Howden Craft was 
also only reasonable and what might have 
been expected; but why there shoirld be a 
codicil revoking that bequest, puzzled the girl 
exceedingly. The will had been drawn up 
when Miss Elton came of age, a little over a 
year before that fatal Doncaster meeting, the 
codicil had been added two years later. She 
wondered what had become of her cousin ; she 


38 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 

had never heard from him since those few lines 
of farewell which he had written her just be- 
fore leaving England. He had made no 
mention of Avhere he was going, but had railed 
bitterly aginst the world generally. “ Though 
an iniquitous judge had the audacity to sum 
up against me in face of the overwhelming 
evidence to the contrary, twelve unprejudiced 
men, after patiently listening to all that was 
brought forward on either side, found me guilt- 
less of the shameful crime of which I was 
accused. Society, on the contrary, without 
enquiry, seems inclined to pronounce otherwise, 
and sentence me to social ostracism. It is the 
old story, only throw enough mud, and some 
of it will stick. This country is no longer any 
place for me ; although legally declared inno- 
cent, my old associates eye me askance, and, by 
Heavens, one may as well commit murder as be 
suspected of it. Good-bye, Emily, you are the 
only creature I care to say good-bye to; don’t 
quite forget me, and let me find in years to 
come, when all this miserable business is for- 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’ S. 


29 


gotten, that you still retain a kindly recollec- 
tion of your unhappy hut most affectionate 
cousin, Howden Craft.” 

“ It’s very singular, ” she murmured. “ What 
could have made papa put in that codicil ? There 
is no other addition or alteration in the will, 
only that. The impression, of course, it gives 
is, that Howden somehow or other offended 
him, but how could he have done so? They 
parted here on the best of terms, as I can per- 
sonally vouch for, and papa neither heard from 
nor saw him again before he left England. 
We have known nothing about him since, and 
except that shameful charge, of which we 
know he was guiltless, there has never been 
anything alleged against him. Yet it was not 
like papa to do a thing like this without a rea- 
son. I wonder where Howden is now ; whether 
he ever does mean coming back to this country 
or whether he is, as for all I know he may be, 
in it now. I wonder whether he knows papa 
is dead. I wonder — Ah,” she concluded as 
she dropped her head upon her hands, “if it 


30 


A MEMBER OF T ATTERS ALL’S.. 


was dull here before, how dull it will be liv' 
ing here all alone; and I am so alone! 
Neither brothers nor sisters as other girls have, 
nor even cousins, except Howden, that I know 
anything of,” and here tfears trickled down her 
cheeks as she thought of what an isolated be- 
ing she was in this world. 

She was aroused by the entrance of the old 
butler, who had known her from a child, and 
who had never yet arrived at addressing her 
by her proper title of Miss Elton. 

“What is it, Giggleswick?” she asked. 

“Beg pardon. Miss Emily,” he replied, in a 
quiet subdued manner, fitted to her late be- 
reavement, “ but there is a gentleman wants 
to see you.” 

“You ought to have known better, Giggles- 
wick. You ought to know I can’t see any one 
as yet.” 

“No, miss, but this is a very particular gen- 
tleman — one of the family, so to speak. I 
thought perhaps, miss, you’d make an excep- 
tion of Mr. Howden.” 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’ 8. 31 

“What, my cousin Howden?” she exclaimed. 
“Quite right; that’s a very different thing. 
Show him in at once.” And in another 
minute or two Howden Craft, nothing changed 
during his four-years’ absence, entered the 
room, and cordially embraced her. 

A glance at his attire showed Miss Elton 
that he was aware of his uncle’s death. 

“You have heard of my sad loss, I see,” she 
said. “ Poor papa, he never recovered the at- 
tack of that dastardly villain on the moor; but 
he sank peacefully to his rest at last. And the 
end, I am glad to say, was attended with no 
suffering. ” 

“ Do you mean to say that he never recovered 
from the attack of that cowardly tramp? 
You don’t mean to say that the injuries he 
received on that occasion led to his death?” 

The girl bent her head sadly. 

“ He was a cripple to the end of his days, ” 
she replied, “and the doctors have no doubt 
they; shortened them besides.” 

“Did he ever express his disbelief in my 


32 A MJS3fBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 

being guilty of the crime with which I was 
charged?” exclaimed Howden eagerly. 

“No; he was very ill, you know, at the time; 
hut of course he looked upon you as innocent, 
as we all did. It was the most preposterous 
accusation ever brought against any one.” 

“ And my uncle died without expressing any 
opinion on the subject?” inquired the young 
man, with an anxious look. 

“Just so,” replied Miss Elton. “He never 
could bear any allusion to that terrible after- 
noon. I sometimes think he was disappointed 
that yoii did not come down to St. Katherine’s 
and appeal to him about your innocence. 
Why didn’t you, Howden?” 

“You forget,” he replied, “that, in the first 
place, I was a prisoner and my movements 
were not at my own command, and, in the 
second place, Emily, I, too, had my pride. 
Your father had known me from my child- 
hood, and he might at least have told you to 
write a line to say that he held me guiltless 
of such a shameful outrage as an attack on 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’S. 


33 


him would have been. No, it was impossible 
for me to cross his threshold until he had at 
least done me that justice.” 

If Miss Elton had been often puzzled as to 
why her cousin had not paid them a farewell 
visit before leaving England, she was fain to 
confess he had, at all events, reasonable 
grounds for the omission. 

“How long have you been in England?” 
she asked, after a short pause. 

“A very few days,” he answered. “I saw 
my poor uncle’s death in the papers immedi- 
ately on landing, and though I had vowed 
never to set foot in St. Katherine’s till he had 
done me justice, yet I knew that you, at all 
events, believed in me, and you do, Emmie, 
don’t you?” And he pressed her hand tenderly. 

She smiled assent. 

“ I remembered that you might be all alone 
in your trouble, and, without knowing ex- 
actly how, it struck me I might be of some use 
to you in your sorrow. Sympathy from those 

we love is always precious at such times.” 

3 


34 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 

“It was very kind of you,” she said. “I 
dare say you are hungry. If you’ll just touch 
the bell, Giggleswick shall find you something 
to eat and drink.” 

“No, thank you; I lunched before I left 
Doncaster. I have got a bed at the ‘Eein- 
deer, ’ and am going to stay there for two or 
three nights. Ah, what a deal of trouble and 
misery I have gone through since I last set 
eyes on the old town.” 

“It’s very nice of you, Howden. I am dread- 
fully lonely just at present; but there are 
plenty of spare rooms here, if you like. Yes, 
we’ve all had a deal of sorrow since you were 
last in Doncaster.” 

“Ah, well,” rejoined her cousin, “we must 
hope that there are more cheery times in store 
for us. Poor Uncle John is now beyond all 
the ills of this world, and I hope I’ve about 
done the only thing left for men so miserably 
placed as I have been, that is, lived the foul 
calumny down. As for you, Emmie, you are 
left chatelaine of a fair domain, and in due 


. A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 35 

time will give it a lord and master, and live 
happy, as the story-books say, forever after.” 

Had there been a shrewd observer of this 
tete-a-tete, I think he would have been struck 
by the keen though furtive glances that How- 
den Craft shot at his cousin as he made this 
remark. It might have occurred to him that, 
ingeniously worded as it was, this was nothing 
more than a direct inquiry as to whether by 
his will John Elton had made his daughter un- 
conditional heiress of all he possessed, also a 
cleverly masked desire to know something 
about the details of the said will, but in this 
Craft was doomed to disappointment. 

“You’re a mighty soothsayer, Howden,” re- 
plied Emily, smiling, “and utter rose-colored 
predictions regarding my future, upon no 
grounds whatever. Touching your own, I 
have no doubt you are right, and that the 
world generally have already forgotten such a 
cruel charge was ever brought against you.” 

“There you are wrong,” he retorted bitterly. 
“ They will not forget I was charged with the 


3(i 


A MEIi’BER OF TATTERSALU S. 


felony, though they will most likely forget I 
was acquitted of the crime. And now, my 
dear, I must be getting back to mine inn. I’ll 
come over to lunch to-morrow if you will allow 
me.” And with a warm pressure of the hands 
the cousins parted. 

“Ah,” soliloquized old Giggleswick, as he 
watched Craft striding down the drive, 
“there’s an old saying, ‘Take ’em with the 
tear in their e’e, ’ and apparently Mr. Howden 
is of that way of thinking. My faith, he’s lost 
no time, and he’s right. Miss Emily’s not the 
girl to lack wooers with all those braw acres 
in her grip. ‘Take ’em with the tear in their 
e’e.’ Well, I’ve done with all that kind of 
foolishness now, but when I thought of being 
a family man, hang me if I could ever catch 
’em in that state. They’d always a grin on 
their lips instead, whenever I began to talk 
about it, and the last hussy I touched on the 
subject with, had the impudonce to tell me 
that whenever she did change her name it 
shouldn’t he for such a one as Giggleswick.” 


CHAPTER III. 


LIZZIE PEXISTONE. 

Any idler who might have '.een stroUing 
about the purlieus of merry Islington could 
not have overlooked on wall and hoarding the 
magnificent posters of the Variety Theatre; 
and among the great public favorites an- 
nounced as contributing to the entertaumient, 
it would have been impossible that the name 
of Miss Lizzie Penistone, that popular pet of 
the public, as she was duly designated, could 
have escaped notice. Her name was printed 
in very big letters indeed, and she was further 
described as a versatility actress. The music- 
hall hah it would have formed a very good 
idea of what to expect from Miss Lizzie Pern- 
stone. She would sing serio-comic songs in a 

very moderate voice and with a good deal of 
37 


38 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 

accentuation, and was probably on winking 
terms with her audience. She would dance a 
little, displaying as a danseuse considerable 
more agility than grace, the whole crowned 
with an air of ineffable assurance and satisfac- 
tion; but upon this occasion the habitue would 
have found himself disagreeably disappointed. 
Miss Penistone was a pretty, modest young 
woman who sang ballads in a very sweet voice 
and who danced very nicely and without a 
ti*ace of vulgarity. She was a most decided 
favorite with the audience, and indeed in the 
theatre generally, but, as the young ladies of 
the ballet expressed it, “she kept herself to 
herself, and was that stand-off she had no 
chance to pick up a sweetheart.” Be that as 
it may, Miss Penistone seemed quite content 
to be without admirers. Outside the theatre 
she was known as Mrs. Clover, and lived 
quietly with her little boy in one of the small 
streets running off Upper Street. She had 
been on the stage from a child, and Islington 
had known her in her public capaciiy, on and 


39 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALUS. 

off, for the last twelve years. She had disap- 
peared at times, taking, no doubt, other en- 
gagements, but she always turned up again 
and was welcomed back with the liveliest sat- 
isfaction. The manager of the Variety never 
wished to part with her, but she said she re- 
quired change, that it was not good for an 
actress to stick always in the same theatre, 
that she couldn’t be too widely known, etc., 
and it was during one of these disappearances 
that she had met and married Clover. 

About Clover there was a decided mystery. 
Who or what Clover was, and whether Clover 
was alive or dead, was all quite unknown to 
the good people among whom she dwelt. All 
they knew was that Lizzie Penistone had re- 
turned from one of her habitual disappearances 
with a siiiall boy, a wedding-ring, and, an- 
nouncing her marriage, had given all her 
friends and neighbors to tinders tand that in 
private life she was henceforth to be known 
as Mrs. Clover. The one thing that struck 
the few intimates of Lizzie Penistone as singu- 


40 .-1 yWJIBEB OF TA'ITERSALJ/S. 

lar was that she never made the slightest al- 
lusion to her married life. Her mother lived 

'i -or- 

with her, and Lizzie had to su^jport both Mrs. 
Penistone and her own boy. It wa,s hard 
work. Lizzie was popular in her profession, 
and rarely out of an engagement; but the 
salaries paid at theatres of the Variety stamp 
are not large, and with three mouths to 
feed there was not much margin for either 
sickness or taking a holiday. She was mak- 
ing a decent living, but was by no means, as 
our cousins exin’ess it, ‘“making her pile.’’ 

There is a term common enough in theatrical 
journals the meaning of which I can never 
help speculating upon, and that is “resting.” 
It possesses two such totally different mean- 
ings. Miss Montespau “resting,” may mean 
that that young lady is simply enjoying very 
pleasant holidays .with vexy ideasant friends; 
or it may mean that Miss Montespan, the 
mother of half a dozen children, is unfortu- 
nately out of an engagement, and pondering 
how that hungiy family is to be fed. In this 


A MEJIBFB OF TATTERSALV S. 41 

latter case it is devoutly to be hoped that Mr. 
Montespan is not also resting. 

Miss Penistone has got on her hat and cloak, 
and has just called to her mother to look after 
little Jack when his supper-time comes. 
Suddenly there"' is a knock at the door, 
and, with the easy assurance of an old friend 
of the family, the visitor saves the ser- 
vant all trouble by opening the door himself, 
and is at once addressed by Lizzie as Uncle 
Tom. 

‘‘How provoking!'’ she continued. “I am 
just off to the theatre. What made you come 
at this time? Stop, I’ll tell you what we will 
do. You shall come with me and see our 
show, and when I have finished we will walk 
home and have supper together, and you shall 
tell me all your news.” 

“All right, my girl,” replied Mr. Horwich, 
“but I want to talk with you to-night. I have 
news for you, Lizzie, strange news.” 

“Is it about him?” she asked hurriedly. 
“ Nothing bad, is it, uncle? He is not ill, not — ” 


42 


.4 MEMBER OF TATTERS ALVB. 


And in her agitation her mouthy ref used to 
syllable the word. rot >.A ■ ro ; 

‘‘Not he/’ replied the^ bookmaker angidly. 
“He’s well enough, and a precious deal better 
than he deserves to be. That you can still 
care an atom about him after (the way he has 
treated you, heats me. He left you without 
the least /compunction, without even saying 
good-by. ” 

“He couldn't help it, he couldn't, indeed. 
There were reasons which you don't know — 
reasons which I cannot explain to you.” 

“*1 know a good deal more than you are 
aware of,” replied Mr. Horwich. “But how 
can you forgive his never writing a line to you 
all these years? Of his never having contrih^ 
uted anything to the support of you or your 
hoy?” And then the bookmaker indulged in 
some opprobrious mutterings, among which 
the term “white-livered skunk'’ was most 
audible. 

“Hush, uncle, hush!” cried Lizzie. “I 
can't listen to such abuse of him as that, and I 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 43 

won’t, ’^"^she cried with an angry stamp of her 
foot. “As for money, he hadn’t any, most 
likely .fc After just the first, he never seemed 
to have any ; he was not of the kind that made 
it. At horse-racing some must win and some 
must lose/^ ' And'^.he was one of those that 
lose.”v ■■ | - -l; 

“Not so much of that, either,” replied Mr. 
Horwich. “He had some very fair slices of 
luck— there are lots of bigger fools about than 
him, my dear.” 

“ Here we are, and now I must leave you. 
Come out after I have done my second turn. 
Meet me at the stage-door, and we will walk 
home. One word more. Is he in Eng- 
land?” 

“ Yes,” replied the bookmaker shortly, and 
with that proceeded to make his way round to 
the main entrance of the building. Once 
inside, he soon stumbled across one or two 
professional brethren, and, what with the en- 
tertainment and the discussion of one or two 
important handicaps that were looming in the 


44 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. . 


immediate future/^Mr. Horwich passed a most 
agreeable evening, and was not onlys highly 
delighted with his niece’s singing, but still 
more with the reception she met with.i i 

On their arrival at home they found/ that 
Mi*s. Penistone had got a nice little supper all 
ready for themLili.)The good lady had made a 
few additions to the ordinary meal in honor of 
her brother’s arrival, but it was not until sup- 
per was over and her mother had betaken her- 
self to bed that Lizzie touched upon the subject 
which engrossed her whole mind. 

“You said my husband had returned to 
England,” she observed. “Have you seen 
him? Where is he — in London?” 

“I have neither seen him nor do I know 
where he is, but his name was among the 
passengers that arrived from New York on 
board the Scotia last week. But I have no 
doubt that I speedily shall know. If he's in 
London, I certainly shall know, unless he has 
utterly changed his habits. Now I want to 
ask yf)U one question. What made you take 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 


45 , 


a situation as barmaid at the ‘Falcon,’ in Al- 
dersgate Street?” 

The girl flushed for a moment, then looking 
steadily into her uncle’s face said, “ And who 
told you that I had taken such a situa- 
tion?” 

“Well, if anybody had told me I should 
have told him that he lied,” replied Mr. Hor- 
wich blandly, “but when it comes to my own 
eyes I can mostly trust them. And if I didn’t 
see you skipping about in the bar there, or 
otfice, or whatever they call it, may I never 
lay odds again.” 

“That’s a question I can’t answer,” replied 
Lizzie. “ If you’re sure you saw me there, I 
suppose you did, but I can tell you nothing 
about it. You must foi’give me, uncle. I 
don’t like mysteries any more than you do, 
but I have a secret in my life which is not my 
own.” 

“Well, Lizzie, I’ll bother you with no more 
questions. But what are you going to do with 
this husband of yours, now he has returned to 


4 (] A MEMBER OF TATTERBALL'S. 

% 

England? Are you going back to him? He 
deserted you; are you going to forgive him?” 

“I don’t know what I shall do,” rejoined the 
girl with considerable hesitation, and playing 
nervously with her fingers on the cloth. “ I 
have first to learn his wishes on the sub- 
ject.” 

“ His wishes !” cried the bookmaker angidly. 
“His duties come a long way before his 
wishes. Let him own you as his wife before 
all the world. It’s all very well, my girl; 
people up here are very good-natured, and 
take your version of your marriage wit’nout 
question, but you’ll find it won’t be so every- 
where ; folks’ll insist upon knowing a bit more 
about Mr. Clover, or they’ll believe there ain’t 
one. Now I’m not going to have your good 

name lost because this well, no, I won’t 

say it — fellow won’t do what’s right. Let 
him live with you here a few weeks and ac- 
knowledge you as his wife, and then he may 
take himself off to New York or anywhere 
else he likes, the further the better — it can’t 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 47 

be too far. We don't want anything more 
from him.” 

“Indeed, uncle, you mustn’t interfere; you 
must leave me to manage my own affairs. If 
you can, get me my husband’s address. I 
implore you not to come between us. You 
don’t know what mischief you may do, not 
only to him, but to me.” 

The good-natured face of the bookmaker was 
troubled, and he looked hard at his niece, and 
then in a low tone said, almost entreatingly : 

“Lizzie, he is your ” 

“Ask me no questions,” she cried, springing 
to her feet; “I can tell you nothing. You 
must wait patiently until I can explain ; but, 
believe me, uncle, any interference on your 
part will only make mischief.” 

“Well, my dear,” replied Mr. Horwich, ris- 
ing from his chair, “ I had hoped as you would 
have answered that question right off the reel. 
Now, look’ee, Lizzie, I’ll bother you no more; 
but either that chap makes you an honest wom- 
an, or I'll make England a x)recious sight 


48 


.4 MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 

too hot to hold him. As I said before, I know 
a bit more than you think I do. Good-night.'’ 

“Oh, uncle, don’t go yet,” cried Miss Penis- 
tone; but the bookmaker, in his righteous 
wrath, was not to be stayed. He had always 
been uneasy in his mind regarding his niece’s 
marriage, and now he felt sure that she had 
been deceived, and that no such ceremony had 
ever taken place. Fierce were the impreca- 
tions and threats of vengeance on her betrayer 
that he muttered as he strode homeward to 
his own rooms. 

Lizzie sat up for some time after her uncle 
had left her, in considerable dismay at the 
knowledge he had so unexpectedly revealed. 
She had no wish that that episode in her life 
should be known to any of her friends or re- 
lations. It might be rather below the dignity 
of an artist to take such a situation; still, 
she did not mind that herself: there was not 
much to be said against it. Many respectable 
young women had been very glad to earn their 
own living by taking such a place, and it was no 


49 


'a MEyiDER OF TATTEEEALL'S. 

false pride that had madfe Idzzieso desirous that 
this experience of hers shPuld not he known. 
She had been at the “ Falcon'’ only a very few 
days, and, so far as she knew’, had encoun- 
tered nobody whom she had ever met Ijefore. 
How could her uncle have seen her? And 
how was it that she didn’t see him? Why 
hadn’t he spoken to her? Perhaps he w’as a 
well-known customer there. Anyw’ay, it was 
most unlucky that chance should have brought 
him there during her brief sojourn at the 
hotel. She had taken the situation wdth a 
purpose, if she could be said to have even held it 
at all ; for she had only been taken as an assist- 
ant in the office, and her duties had been more 
those of a book-keeper than a barmaid. No, 
she had been very anxious that nobody should 
know of that engagement; should it come to 
the eats of any of her friends or acquain tances, 
they would be sure to ask wdiat had induced 
her to take such a place. She had done so 
with a purpose, and she wished the whole 

transaction l)uried in oblivion. She had done 
4 


50 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALVS: 

that of which she was ashamed; she would 
have done it again under/ the like circum- 
stances, but assuredly she ;^^ould have liked to 
banish the whole thing from her memory were 
it possible. Of all people in the world to have 
found out she had taken temporary employ- 
ment at the ‘‘Falcon,” her uncle was likely to 
prove the most mischievous. Nothing would 
do for him but knowing the reason why, and 
no man so likely to eventually get at that why 
than Tom Horwich. In his j^resent frame 
of mind there would be no holding him. He 
had left her in anger, and before she should 
see him again the mischief might have been 
done. Well, she could do nothing — there was 
nothing to be done — and with a sad heart and 
a sense of impending evil Lizzie Penistone 
sought her pillow. 


^ - otia ' v: - 

^T:-j -j :; '.".Vl. ''“j: ■ - ,' . ' :"■ -■•: , ;■ ■ 

- ^ ^ ' OT IV. 

LOOKING BACK AT THE TRIAL. 

Ho'vtobn Craft remained three days at Don- 
caster, and nobody could have accused him of 
neglecting his opportunities. He spent a good 
portion of each day over at St. Katherine’s, 
and behaved with admirable tact. He had 
once more established himself on the old foot- 
ing of a favorite cousin, and was paving the 
way to gliding imperceptibly from that into 
the role of a favored lover. He had been 
always very fond of his cousin Emily, and 
thought, not unnaturally, that when time had 
softened her sorrow she would be a fair bride 
for any one to win. And he was not unmind- 
ful of the fact that she would be a well- 
dowered one to boot. Howden, too, was very 
persistent during his stay in cultivating inti- 
mate relations with his late uncle's old friends, 
51 . 


5 *^ .4 MEMBER OF TATTERS ALUS. 

especially those who were likely to have accu- 
rate knowledge of his testamentary disposi- 
tions, such as his doctor, Mr. Dawes his lawyer, 
the clergyman, etc. From all of these he 
heard the same story, that everything had been 
left unreservedly to Emily, with the exception 
of some small legacies, though, except Mr. 
Dawes, none of these gentlemen had actually 
seen the will. The lawyer owned that he had 
not only seen it, but drawn it; and added that, 
practically, it really concerned nobody but Miss 
Elton, and to one or two insidious questions of 
Howden’s as to whether there was not any 
mention of himself in it, he gave evasive 
answers with professional dexterity. At the 
end of three complete days How den considered 
he had accomplished as much as was possible 
at present. He had thoroughly established 
himself on the old intimate terms with his 
cousin Emily, and to press for more just at 
present he felt would be foolish. He had 
clearly ascertained that he benefited nothing 
under his uncle’s will, though he had been dis- 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALU S. 53 

appointed in his endeavors to find out whether 
he had been mentioned in it at all or not. He 
was not a sensitive man, but even he thought 
Mr. Dawes was rather chilly in his reception 
of him, as if, in spite of the verdict of acquit- 
tal, a taint of the old accusation still clung to 
him. He could not help it, but was fain to 
admit that a charge of that nature was 
harder to live down than even he had an- 
ticipated. 

Cai^tain Fladbury, in the course of his usual 
custom, was wandering from one country 
house to another in pursuit of either hunting 
or shooting, and, from one cause or another, 
found himself in one of these mansions at mid- 
night left sole tenant of the smoking-room. 
Even under mixch more discouraging circum- 
stances than the present it would never have 
entered Cis’ mind to go to bed without his 
second cigar. Though not an inveterate 
smoker, he did smoke, and held cigarettes of 
all kinds in unmitigated contempt. “Give 
me a pipe or cigar,” he was wont to observe. 


54 


*4 MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 


“and I'm all there; but as for this paper 
trash, it only makes one anxious to know when 
smoking is going to begin.” Now tobacco, 
with nothing to do and no one to talk to, 
though soothing, is rather monotonous, and 
Cis, in spite of his cool, almost phlegmatic 
manner, had a lot of reserve force about him 
somewhere. His eye roved over the book-case, 
and it occurred to him that this was a fa- 
vorable opportunity to improve his mind. 
“Make one jolly sleepy, if it does nothing 
else,” he muttered, as he strolled across the 
room to the shelves. Suddenly the “Annual 
Register” caught his eye. “Ha! the very 
thing. I've been meaning to do it for the last 
fortnight. Here’s the volume for that year, 
and hang me if I don't read up this trial of 
Howden Craft’s again. I don’t recollect it 
quite as well as I might do ; but, as far as my 
memory serves me, Horwich has nothing to 
go upon. I know I have heard somewhere 
that lawyers always regard an alibi as a very 
doubtful defence, but I fancy this was as un- 


-1 MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’ S. 55 

impeachably proved as is possible.” Cis set 
himself steadily enough to his task, but for all 
that he neglected to do what is very essential 
when it comes to forming any reasonable 
judgment in such matters, namely, to read it 
all. There was scarce time enough to do that, 
he thought; he knew the prisoner had been 
acquitted on an alibi — he would merely read 
the evidence upon which that alibi had been 
established. That he had left St. Katherine’s 
and gone up to London on the Friday there 
was ample testimony. The robbery had been 
committed on the Saturday, it was presumed, 
at about three o’clock, and it was conclusively 
proved that Howden Craft on the Saturday 
had dined with five other gentlemen at the 
Falcon Hotel. 

At half-past seven on the evening of that 
day, of these five gentlemen, four had appeared 
in court and corroborated the defendant’s state- 
ment. All four swore solemnly to having been 
present at this dinner, which had been given 
by one of the party, called Fletcher. As for the 


5C A H1E2IBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 

fifth, he had sailed for America between the 
robbery and the trial, and could not therefore 
he laid hands on to give evidence; The waiter 
also, who had been the principal attendant 
upon them swore most distinctly to the defend- 
ant’s presence on that occasion. He seemed, 
however, to have been rather a stupid witness, 
and cut but a poor figure in the hands of the 
cross-examining counsel. He was hazy upon 
many points ; not so clear as was desirable, for 
instance, about the date of the said entertain- 
ment. He knew it was toward the end of 
the Doncaster race-week, but seemed a little 
uncertain as to on what day that dinner took 
place. They had always a good many dinners 
on; they did a great business in that way; it 
was difficult to feel quite sure some weeks after- 
ward as to the exact day a particular dinner 
took place; could swear positively there was 
such a dinner, and that the defendant and the 
other four gentlemen present in court were all 
at it. 

“Could he trust to his memory?” 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 


bl 


“Yes, he could; it mightn’t be what it was 
when he was young, hut,” he concluded testily, 
“he could tell the time of day pretty well now, 
perhaps as well as the gentleman who was 
asking him so many questions.” 

An assistant waiter gave similar testimony, 
save that he was still more undecided about 
pretty well everything, even to the identity 
of the defendant with one of the gentlemen 
who had dined at the “ Falcon” on that occa- 
sion. The proprietor of the hotel produced his 
hooks ; did not keep them himself, but had 
perfect reliance on the young ladies in his 
office ; all dinners were supposed to be entered 
as they occurred, and to the best of his belief 
they were. He had not the slightest cause to 
think otherwise. Dinners were mostly settled 
for before the gentlemen left, but in the case 
of an old customer they were sometimes booked. 
Mr. Fletcher was a well-known customer, and 
that dinner had not been settled for until two 
or three weeks later. It was then shown that 
Mr. Elton left home about half-past two with 


63 


A MEJIBEH OF TATTERSALVS. 


the avowed intention of walking across the 
moor into Doncaster for the purpose of banking 
his winnings on the week. That it would 
have taken him about half an hour to walk to 
the place where he had been so cruelly mal- 
treated and robbed, and that though it was 
very possible for his assailant to have made his 
way from the scene of the assault to the Don- 
caster station in time to catch the three-thirty- 
six train for town, still that train was not 
due at King’s Cross until six-fifty; and sup- 
posing the train to be punctual to the minute, 
that would only have left the defendant ten 
minutes in which to get from the station to 
the Falcon Hotel and dress. All this gave 
rise to much cross-questioning as to how Mr. 
Fletcher and his friends were dressed, and 
further as to whether their dinner was served 
at seven sharp. 

The waiters were unanimous on this point, 
‘Hhey was all dressed in evening clothes,” but 
as to the dinner being punctual on the table, 
the head waiter waxed sulky and dogmatic. 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 59 

‘f Of course it was punctual ; when gentlemen 
ordered dinners they got them at the time they 
were ordered. It might be the fashion to serve 
meals higgledy-piggledy in some houses, but 
when a gentleman had said seven, the ‘Falcon’ 
said seven too, and if the dinner was late, it 
was the fault of the gentlemen, not the fault 
of the ‘Falcon.’ Nobody was late upon this 
occasion, and therefore of course dinner was 
served at the time it was ordered.” And then 
the head waiter cast a withering look upon his 
persecutor, as a man who had accurately dem- 
onstrated an indisputable fact to a very obtuse 
adversary. 

When he had got thus far, Cis Fladbury put 
dov.m the book and pondered deeply about 
what he had read. 

“Now,” he said to himself, “let me consider. 
When I was told that an alibi was an unreliable 
defence, what grounds were given me for its 
being so? Ah, yes, I recollect : my legal friend 
said that unfortunately impecunious human 
nature is apt to be ready to ‘swear to almost any- 


60 


A MEMBER OF TATTERBAIL'S. 

think’ for a consideration. The M'^orth, there- 
fore, of an alibi must lie considerably in what 
are the characters of the witnesses. Now, let’s 
see: here's Mr. John Fletcher and Mr. Anthony 
Brooklyn, gentlemen coixnected with the turf. 
Ah, well, if there are plenty of ‘straight uns, ’ 
there's a goodish sprinkling of ‘wrong uns ’ 
connected with that pursuit. Richard Welside, 
gentleman, the first witness: I barely know 
him by sight, but he's all right. He really is 
what he professes, though a bit of a fool, I 
fancy. Still, Welside’s evidence is quite to be 
depended on. Mr. David Abednego: well, I 
don't know anything about him, and I dare 
say he’s a very worthy gentleman ; still, I don’t 
think I should ask him to dinner ; sounds the 
sort of fellow that one would look up after a 
bad week when one was anxiously endeavoring 
to I'aise the necessary shekels for Monday. 
Then we’ve the two waiters ; very good men 
in their line, but they didn’t cut up brilliant 
in the witness-box. A good dogged old con- 
servative, that head fellow, chap that would 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALUS. G1 

insist on your having hock after fish, whether 
you wouicl or not, and evidently considers the 
^Falcon’ the first hotel in Europe. I can't 
think how it was they came to arrest Craft at 
all. I recollect at the time it being said it was 
absurd, there was no case against him. As 
for his knowing that Mr. Elton had had a good 
week, and that, living close to Doncaster, he 
always settled there, well, we all knew that ; 
the police might just as well have accused me. 
Why, we were all winners — stop, though: no, 
if Horwich is right, Craft was not. I wonder 
what it was made them accuse him. Why on 
earth should they suppose that he was the cul- 
prit? The only thing I ever heard against 
him before this trial was that he dipped into 
the racing a little too deep for his means. He 
and his uncle were on the best of terms appar- 
ently. It would have been much simpler to 
have borrowed it than to go into the highway 
business. By the way, I we heard nothing 
from Horwich since, so I suppose his discoveries 
have all ended in nothing. Time to go to bed. 


C2 A MFMBEB OF TATTERSALUS. 

I must put off ascertaining how the law came 
to pounce upon Howden Craft for another 
time,” and throwing the butt of his cigar into 
the grate, Cis picked up his candlestick and 
made his way to his room. 

Now this particular point that Fladhurv had 
put on one side for future consideration had 
exercised the public mind very much at the 
time of the trial. It really did seem hard that 
a man of Howden Craft’s acknowledged posi- 
tion should be accused of such a crime on such 
slender grounds. The sympathy of the county 
ranged itself entirely on his side. Abuse was 
lavished freely on the magistrates who com- 
mitted him; it was said that the police had 
accused him simply because they felt bound to 
accuse somebody, that they were really quite 
at a loss, but did not like to confess it. Then 
came sensational paragraphs in the papers to 
the effect that “We are not at liberty to dis- 
close;”. that “it would be injudicious as yet to 
make public,” etc., but all giving their readers 
to understand that startling revelations might 


A MEMBER OF' TATTERSALL' S. 


03 


be expected on the trial. But the trial pro- 
duced nothing of the kind, and although it was 
rumored that the most important witness for 
the prosecution had unexpectedly disappeared, 
still the general opinion had been that the 
prisoner had been an unjustly accused man, 
that there was not sufficient evidence to war- 
rant the bringing of so serious a charge against 
him, and if ever the thing was got to the bot- 
tom of, as far as Craft was concerned it would 
be found to have been prompted by personal 
animosity. 

There had been one other verdict, though 
not official, on the case. Mr. Dowdsdell, Q.C., 
one of the shrewdest old criminal lawyers in 
practice, had pronounced the counsel for the 
defence, whom he was known to detest, ‘‘even 
a bigger fool than he had thought him. • ’ 

As Craft was acquitted, his brethren natu- 
rally asked him, “Why so? What more could 
his counsel do than win?” 

“Win!” ejaculated the irascible old lawyer, 
“ he was sure of an acquittal in any case ; what 


64 


A MEMBER OF - TATTERS ALL’S. 


did he want with that alibi? Over-proving 
your innocence is a terrible mistake, and has 
hung many a man. You want a verdict in 
your favor — that’s enough ; you’re not called 

upon to prove your client pure as imdriven 
» aiozoa -40 eifWAU .aic 

snow , 

11^ iiui- n 

miii yiic' tb-Uiif/ ‘ ‘itrf , . 

3frxri37Xij:j 

n .Ai’ i xb.n ad 

^ ..ii ^;;-;aq;;ba 

a ' -T:-- rbavD^, ■ 

:y !' - . •- ' : ■.- ^--.l 

’ ;■■•.' ■■ .^-■■■- 'f 

/-■'i;'Yin; ,;]i ri’ . :•-■■■'.■ a:' -'^a' . 

■ a O'- caa-’f aa- .■ ■^' ■ i * .' ■' ' a 

'.bar- aa-, ^ .■ b/oda;. , 




ignVyonq^-'vsyO is/iJ iDit/ iiuvn -'fl i.rfi 

Bsd IwiB ^03^Bd;ai^^ sIdrrieJ c si saaeooiini: -u ■ / 
ni ;taiJji9v b Jobw uoY aiBm a ■'^asaf -gii.i ‘ 
ballao ten S’J •‘^'CHAPTER V/ 

jroviibflw aa tri.ou: j' 

MR. DAWES OF DONCASTER. - , 

Cis Pladbury might think that Mr. Horwich 
liad ceased to trouble himself about Howden 
Craft's misdemeanors, but Lizzie Penistone 
knew her uncle better. She knew him as a 
man of undaunted perseverance about anything 
he had once set his mind on. He was a man 
of substance now, and stood well in the pro- 
fession he had adopted, and he owed both his 
money and his present position entirely to hard 
work and, if sharp, strictly straightforward 
dealing. Many of his clients could tell of 
friendly turns he had done when dark days 
were upon them. She dreaded his inquiries, 
for she feared the result of them ; she did not 
know what, but she feared that harm would 
come of them, and, married to him or not, 

Howden Craft was the love of her life. She 
5 65 


on ^4 MEMBER OF TATTERSALFS. 

might never see him again, hut neither act nor 
word of hers should ever bring sorrow to him, 
she vowed. See him— -yes, she longed to do 
that, hut it must be at his own wish ; she was 
far too proud a girl to seek him if it was his 
desire that all should be over between them. 
Her uncle had flung in her face that this man 
had left her; she was fain to acknowledge that 
it was so, but she also knew that circumstances 
left him no option but to leave England. Why 
had he not taken her with him? Loyal in her 
love, she answered this question to herself by 
saying that he knew best whether it was wisest 
to leave her behind or not. To her never hav- 
ing heard from him for the past four years, she 
deliberately shut her eyes. Times had very 
likely gone hard with him, and he had never 
been able to make a home to offer her. Write ! 
men were so careless about such matters ; prob- 
ably he was waiting till his luck turned, and 
he could send her home money and the wel- 
come mandate to come out and join him. Come 
what would, she would be stanch to him to 


A MEMBER OF MATTERS ALL'S. 


67 


the last j she would wait patiently till he sum- 
moned her to his side; if he had ceased to love 
her, it would be better that they should never 
meet more in this world. She could bear any- 
thing better from him than cold looks and the 
feeling that she was a drag upon hisdife. 

Rather a romantic girl, this Lizzie Peni- 
stone, though she did dance and sing in a 
second-class theatre for her livelihood. His 
niece is tpiite right. If Mr. Horwich has not 
been heard of as yet, it is not that he is the 
less resolute in his purpose, but he is somewhat 
at a loss to know how to begin. When an 
offence cannot be proved against a man at the 
time, the lapse of years does not, as a rule, 
make such proof easier. Mr. Horwich had 
taken a dislike to Howden Craft over some turf 
transactions which had brought them together, 
and being a man of strong feelings, he had 
never overcome it. Lizzie was a great favorite 
with him; he v^as very fond of her and im- 
mensely proud of her, firmly believing that her 
taking the town by storm and becoming a 


68 


A MEjIBEB of tatters ALL'S. 


leading actress at a leading London theatre 
was an affair only of time. He had been bit- 
terly disappointed when he found out that she 
was, as he thought, secretly married to Craft. 
He had been very angry, though slightly con- 
soled on finding that Howden had deserted her 
after the trial, and, though much disgusted at 
that worthy’s return to England, had imme- 
diately conceived the design of compelling him 
to openly acknowledge his wife, and now the 
girl herself not only declined to say she v^as 
Howden ’s wife, but also to assist him, her 
uncle, in making Craft do her justice* ‘"But/’ 
he vowed viciously, “ justice he would have if 
money could obtain it,” although, perhaps, it 
is open to question whether he was not confus- 
ing vengeance with justice in his desire to bring 
Howden Craft to his knees. From what he 
knew of that gentleman, he* was neither to be 
intimidated nor dictated to, except by those 
with very much the whip-hand of him. At 
the time of the trial, his aversion to the ac- 
cused had led him to form a different opinion 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. C9 

from the public and the jury; endeavoring to 
prove that old calumny true seemed to offer the 
most effective weapon he could lay his hands 
on. He disliked Craft, and thought him guilty 
of the robbery, because he was disposed to 
think him guilty of anything; but then he was 
compelled to admit that pretty well nobody 
else did, when suddenly there flashed across 
the bookmaker what may be termed an inspi- 
ration, such as sometimes comes to men of his 
class in the course of their business ; and their 
peculiar business renders them adepts in the 
art of putting two and two together, if they 
are ever to get a good living out of it. There 
must have been somebody else with equal dis- 
like and disbelief in Howden Craft to himself, 
in the first instance, or that accusation would 
never have been started. Now, who was that? 
Such was the idea that suddenly came to Mr. 
Horwich. 

‘‘Now, who is this person?” thought the 
bookmaker. “ He knows a bit, and I know a 
bit, and if we put the two together, it’s pos- 


70 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 

sible we should make up between us a little 
story that thief, Craft, would rather not have 
flying about. Now, where is this chap? If I 
can only find him, I shouldn’t at all wonder if 
my friend Mr. Howden Graft is dished and 
in default of anybody else, the bookmaker 
winked confidentially to the sitting-room gen- 
erally. Mr. Horwich was so delighted with 
his new idea that he determined to set to work 
to find “ this other” without delay. He did not 
expect that the discovery would be easy ; but 
he was of a sanguine disposition, and not a 
man to be daunted by difficulties. In ten 
minutes he had settled two things to start 
with ; in the first place, that he must write to 
Captain Fladbury and ask him if he knew 
where Howden Craft was and what he was 
doing ; in the second, he must read the I’ecord of 
that trial attentively through from end to end, 
though it struck him that what he particularly 
wished to get at would be found in the early 
part of it. Cis Fladbury, as we know, had con- 
fined himself to the account of the alibi, but 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 71 

then Mr, Horwich was considerably more in 
earnest about the matter than Cis. In the ac- 
count of the case the bookmaker thought that 
the moving spirit of the prosecution would be 
found in the beginning, and having made up 
his mind, Mr. Horwich lost no time in carrying 
both his projects into execution. Captain 
Fladbury had plenty of friends in Yorkshire, 
and in a very short time Mr. Horwich received 
a few lines from Cis, informing him that 
Howden Craft was or had been staying at Don- 
caster, that he had visited his cousin at St. 
Katherine’s, that the general impression was 
that the news of his uncle’s demise had brought 
him there, and that it had been somewhat of a 
disappointment to find that there was no men- 
tion of himself in tjie will. 

Mr. Horwich read and reread this letter, but 
he was obliged to confess there was little help 
to solving the puzzle he had set himself to be 
gathered from it. He knew Craft was in Eng- 
land, he guessed that he was a needy man ; 
nothing was more natural than that he should 


'^2 A Mm/BEB OF TATTERSALUS. 

go down to Doncaster to see if he had bene- 
fited in any way by John Elton’s death. At- 
tentive perusal of the trial made him decide 
that a solicitor named Dawes, who had been 
intrusted with the getting up of the prosecu- 
tion, was presumably the presiding spirit of it. 
He learned, on inquiry, that the Dawes alluded 
to was a Doncaster attorney, and then a glim- 
mer of light flashed across Mr. Horwich. The 
records of the trial were all very well, but the 
initial of the whole thing had been the exami- 
nation before the magistrates. Who was it 
had pressed them for a conviction — who was it 
that had set the law in motion against Howden 
Craft in the first instance? At whose bidding 
had Mr. Dawes interfered? Had he done so on 
his own account? No, that .was hardly likely; 
still, it might be so. The one thing quite clear 
to the bookmaker now is that he must prose- 
cute his further inquiries in Doncaster, and 
that the first person there he must have a talk 
with is Mr. Dawes, solicitor. 

I’d rather it wasn’t a lawyer,” thought the 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 73 

bookmaker j “they’re so plaguey hard to get 
a story out of ; they soom to think anything 
they say may be used against them, and are 
as hard to draw as a gentleman who is stone 
broke. However, I’ve just got to see what I 
can make of Dawes, and that’s the long and 
short of it. Stay, what a fool I am ; there’s 
the Captain could do rne a turn if he would ; 
he knows a lot of these Yorkshiremen. It’s 
odds on his knowing some of the beaks wlio 
tried this case. I’ll just write him a line about 
it. Doncaster?” said Mr. Horwich, chuckling. 
“I wonder what it will look like- Never saw 
it in my life, except during the race week ; 
from what I’ve heard tell, the very grass grows 
in the streets for the I’est of the year.” 

A rnan of decision, the next afternoon ^w 
Mr. Horwich on his way to Doncaster, and a 
few hours afterward he was comfortably in- 
stalled in the coffee-room of “ The Salutation. ” 

A busy man, the bookrnaker was not given 
to reflect further upon the past than as it 
affected the present. Still, he could not be 


74 


Ac MEMBER OF TATTERS ALUS: 


quite insensible to the spirit of the place. He 
had never seen the famous old inn except 
thronged with waiters trying to attend upon 
twenty people at once, with men calling for 
refreshments of every description, with anxious 
speculation on all sides as to what was to win 
t’ Leger or t’ Coop. He hardly recognized it 
in its solitude. Still, he could not but think of 
all the racing-lore that had been discussed 
within its walls, and of all the flyers of the turf 
that had been stabled in the loose boxes of its 
long, straggling yard, ere they went forth to 
do battle on the town moor. The turf notables, 
both human and equine, that ‘^The Saluta- 
tion” had seen within its precincts would form 
well-nigh a chronicle of the turf from its 
earliest day. There is a thriving town up 
north about which a sporting writer said of its 
shrewd, hard-headed population that they never 
took six to four when the odds w'ere thirteen 
to eight, and I agree with him that that town 
is likely to remain prosperous. Yorkshiremen 
have the credit of being hard to best at a bet 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 




or a bargain. “ We learn from Horace, Homer 
sometimes nods.” I once lunched with a friend 
at “The Salutation,” and it was my friend’s 
first visit to Doncaster. He had the highest 
opinion of Yorkshire astuteness, and when 
requiring change for a sovereign the waiter 
actually neglected to take for the lunch out of 
the change he had brought, my friend shook 
his head as a man with another illusion dis- 
pelled. He has been unsettled in his geography 
ever since, and I fancy has serious doubts as 
to whether Doncaster really is in the many- 
acred county. 

The next morning Mr. Horwich started to. 
call on the solicitor. He was quickly ushered 
into the presence of Mr. Dawes, who waited 
patiently to hear what his perfectly unknown 
visitor had to say. To suppose that Mr. Dawes 
had not a fair general knowledge of racing 
would be to suppose him such a human being as 
never existed in Doncaster, but he was not in 
the least given to speculating upon it; and 
though he certainly did know some of the mag- 


76 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’ S. 

nates of the ring by name, he had no personal 
acquaintance with them, and was wondering a 
little who Mr. Horwich was and where he came 
from. But when the bookmaker, dashing in 
medias res, said that he wished to talk over 
the trial of Howden Craft some four years ago 
for highway robbery, the lawyer most unmis- 
takably retired into himself, and it was evident 
to even the totally unabashed Horwich that 
the wish was by no means mutual. 

“Mr. Craft was acquitted of the crime. I 
can’t see that there is anything more to be 
said about it,” rejoined the lawyer briefly. 

“Things may have changed a good deal 
since then; there may be a lot more known 
about this Craft than there was then.” 

Dawes looked at him intently for a moment, 
and then said : “You are of course aware that 
the law punishes aspersions on a man’s charac- 
ter pretty sharply. You know best whether 
it’s worth your while risking a trial for 
libel.” 

“Now, what’s tlie use of beating aboixt the 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALES. 


bush like this? Let’s come to the point at 
once,” exclaimed the bookmaker. 

“Certainly,” murmured Mr. Dawes. 

“Oh, hang it all!” cried Mr. Horwich, 
“this’ll never do. I’ve found out a bit about 
this Mr. Craft, and, for reasons of my own, I 
am anxious to get to the rights of the whole 
story. Now you got up the case against him. 
What were you going on? What made you 
suspect him?” 

“I don’t admit I did suspect him. I was 
the local attorney employed to get up the case 
for the prosecution.” 

“Well, then,” said Mr. Horwich, “who did 
suspect him? Who set the police on his track? 
What made them take him into custody?” 

“ A warrant for his apprehension was applied 
for, and the police arrested him accordingly. 
They do take up the wroxig person sometimes, 
as you must know if you ever read the daily 
papers.” 

“Of course I know they’re dashed sti;pid,” 
said the bookmaker, “but- ” 


'i8 MEMl^ER OF TATTERS ALL^. 

‘‘Not SO stupid as you think, interrupted 
the attorney. “ They must make mistakes at 
times. If you don’t arrest a man when you 
can, you perhaps can’t arrest him at all, and 
you may arrest the right man and yet not be 
able to prove him guilty.” ' ' • 

“ Then you think this Mr. Craft was guilty?” 
said the bookmaker eagerly. 

“I wasn’t employed to think about it. My 
business was solely to collect evidence to prove 
that he was so,” remarked Mr. Dawes dryly. 

Mr. Horv/ich paused for a moment, and then 
with an honest burst of admiration slapped his 
thigh and exclaimed, “Well, you are a deep 
’un. I should just like to see ’em get stable 
secrets out of you, or to find out which of your 
lot you meant winning with. Now let me 
think a moment. Yes, that’s the only way to 
deal with a wide-awake chap of your kidney. 
If I put my cards on the table, will you be my 
partner, sir?” 

“If you want to consult me professionally, 
Mr. Horwich,” replied the other coolly, “re- 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 79 

member half-confidences don’t pay with your 
solicitor.” 

The bookmaker’s admiration rose, beyond all 
. bounds. If he and Mr. Dawes could only put 
their knowledge together, he felt sure he could 
place the yoke upon Howden Craft’s neck. 
The lawy er had told him nothing, and it might 
well be because he had nothing to tell; but 
that was not at all Mr. Horwich’s belief. He 
thought that if he willed Mr. Dawes could a 
tale unfold, of which it was possible that he 
could supply the missing links, and while ar- 
ranging his ideas in order to disclose all he 
knew, he was completely disconcerted by the 
solicitor quietly remarking; 

“ Excuse me, Mr. Horwich, but my time is 
valuable this morning. If you will just jot 
down the heads of what you want to say, and 
will call upon me this afternoon at three, I 
shall be happy to advise you if you still desire 
it. ” And before the bookmaker had quite recov- 
ered from his surprise, he found himself bowed 
courteously but decidedly out of the office. 


i r/(;S,i .•i[/_ ;j,,.r.. •:.- 

B <•.«•/ /Ji :lij.‘i = laxUlB 

rtlioioli] ;'i;c U ‘ ^ i 

CHAPTER VI. 

CIS fladbury’s advice. 

When Mr. Horwich in the afternoon took 
himself back to the attorney, it was with a 
mind quite clear as to his plan of action. If 
anybody could help him in his scheme for 
avenging himself upon Howden Craft, it was 
Dawes. He would certainly have to go to a. 
lawyer sooner or later, and he saw that he had 
not only fallen across a very sharp member of 
the profession, but one who, to start with, was 
better up in the case than any of his brethren. 
He found Mr. Dawes, too, most decidedly 
changed in his manner toward himself. What 
had happened in the interval the bookmaker 
could not even guess, but the suspicious reti- 
cence of the morning was replaced by an as- 
sumption of cordiality in the afternoon. Un- 
80 




A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 


81 


der his professional mask Mr. Darwes concealed 
a pleasant manner enough, but he was a 
habitually reserved and a somewhat suspicious 
man with those of whom he had no knowledge. 
With the gentlemen of Doncaster and the 
neighborhood, he enjoyed the reputation of 
being a very able and straightforward px’acti- 
tioner. 

“Nov/, Mr. Horwich,” he said as the book- 
maker again entered his office, “by your re- 
turning, I conclude you have made up your 
mind to confide in me. I had pretty well made 
up my mind not to discuss the case of Mr. 
Craft with you any further, but I have heard 
something about you since which has made me 
change my mind. You shall tell me, first of 
all, your reason for being anxious to revive this 
old charge against him.” 

“Revenge,” said Horwich hoarsely. “I 
want to have him under my heel, so that I can 
grind him to powder if he doesn’t do vffiat I 
want him to.” 

“Very good,” replied the la^vyer, as blandly 


82 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL S. 

as if the bookmaker had expressed tha most 
laudable and Christian-like reasons for wishing 
to proceed against Craft. “Now, you’ll par- 
don me, but is it on account of money?” 

The bookmaker shook his head. 

“ Because it’s fair to point out that Howden 
Craft is not a penny-piece the better for his 
uncle’s death, and that I don’t think any 
pressure could possibly wring anything out of 
him.” 

“ No sir ; he has wronged one near and dear 
to me,” rejoined the other fiercely. 

“No occasion to go into a painful subject,” 
interposed the lawyer. “Now, have you any 
fresh evidence to bring forward? And re- 
member, don’t let any desire to be upsides 
with Mr. Craft color your story. Stick to 
facts; don’t forget it’s facts I want.” 

“I’ve told you what I want and why I want 
it,, and I’m going to be straight enough with 
you, never fear. Well, sir, in the first instance 
I have taken it into my head that you knew 
something up here that never came out at the 


A MEMBER ■ OF TATTERSALL’S. 83 

trial; I’m down here this very minute to see 
if I can find out that; maybe you couldn’t 
prove it — don’t know. There was a rumor at 
the time, I remember, that an important wit- 
ness for the prosecution could not be found. 
Secondly, I know what none of you did, that 
Mr. Craft was at his wits’ end for money.” 

The lawyer smiled, but said nothing, though 
he made a note of this last circumstance. 

“ Then again about that alibi business. I 
don’t understand it myself; but more might 
have come out about the case, if you had had 
somebody who knew all the ins and outs of 
racing to tell you who those chaps were.” 

“Well, I thought we did pretty well,” re- 
plied Dawes. 

“I don’t quite know how it was done; they 
were all present at that dinner, there seems to 
be no doubt. And that Howden Craft couldn’t 
have committed that robbery and been at the 
dinner seems pretty clear, and yet I am sure 
he did it.” 

“Come, Mr. Horwich, ” interposed the lawyer 


84 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’ S,,. 

sharply, “ this won’t do. I said facts, remem- 
ber.” 

“I beg pardon, sir,” said the bookmaker: 
^ “if you’d put me in the box that time I 
couldn’t have told you much ; things became a 
deal clearer to me afterward.” ’ 

“Fletcher, I believe, managed the stable 
with which Mr. Craft was connected at the 
time.” 

“Just so, that’s it, but one didn’t see then 
what an interest he had in Craft’s acquittal.” 

“Still, these are hardly facts,” replied the 
lawyer. “And Mr. Welside now, was he in- 
terested in the same manner?” 

“I’m sure I can’t say. Quite likely as not.” 

“You had better tell me the whole story, 
but don’t forget I want facts. I shall be very 
glad to hear what conclusion you draw from 
them, but they must be undoubted facts to 
start with.” 

“All right, Mr. Dawes, I understand, and 
will stick as close to the text as I can. We’ll 
leave Welside out of the business for the pres- 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 


85 


ent, because I can’t speak positively as to him; 
and also Mr. Abednego. I shouldn’t think any 
one alive could speak positively about him, 
further than that he knows his way about, but 
Brooklyn, like Craft, was in Fletcher’s stable.” 

“ Mr. Fletcher, in short, was a trainer?” 
said the lawyer, 

“No, he was not, though for the matter 
of that he knew the business quite as well as 
any of them. He was more a schoolmaster to 
young gen tleinen begin ning racing. He settled 
what their horses should be entered for, what 
they should run for, and managed all the 
trials. What I make out from that is this; 
I know Mr. Craft lost a lot of money at that 
meeting, and therefoi'e conclude that all the 
followers of the stable had a bad time, and that 
Fletcher and Brooklyn also lost a good deal 
of money. Now of course they’d be terribly 
anxious to get it back again ; people who lose 
money generally are; and as it happened, 
they’d a regular ace of trumps in their hand 
at the time. This was a mare called ‘Lady 


86 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' 

Teazle,’ which had been overlooked by the 
handicapper, and had got into the Cambridge- 
shire at such a light weight as to make tho 
race a gift to her. This mare was Craft’s 
property, and outside the stable nobody had an 
idea how good she was.” 

“I begin to understand,” said the attorney. 
“You mean that Fletcher and Brooklyn had 
therefore a very great interest in Craft’s win- 
ning the Cambridgeshire.” 

“Exactly,” continued the bookmaker, “and 
you’ve not lived in Doncaster all your life with- 
out knowing that no horse of which the owner 
is a defaulter can start for any race held under 
tho rules of the Jockey Club.” 

“I see; and therefore if Mr. Craft didn’t 
succeed in discharging his liabilities over Don- 
caster, ‘Lady Teazle’ would not have been 
allowed six weeks later to start at Newmarket. 
Very easy to understand the interest Messrs. 
Fletcher and Brooklyn had in that. But ex- 
plain this to me. Mr. Craft’s Doncaster ac- 
count was promptly settled on Monday at Tat- 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’8. «7 

tersall’s. Now, what reason was there for 
Fletcher' and Brooklyn to subsequently swear 
that they were present at a dinner that didn’t 
take place? Craft’s liabilities were settled, 
there was nothing to prevent ‘Lady Teazle’ 
from starting for the Cambridgeshire; men 
don’t take the consequences of perjury for 
nothing.” 

“Why, dash it all, Mr. Dawes, you don’t 
believe they’d let a convict win the Derby, do 
you? Why, if Craft had been convicted of 
highway robbery his horses would have been 
all sold for the benefit of the Crown, or his 
creditors, or somebody. You ought to know 
better than I do what becomes of a man’s 
property under such circumstances, but nobody 
ever heard of a gentleman in Her Majesty’s 
prisons running race-horses. Besides, even if 
he had been allowed to stick to his property, I 
think it’s likely he would say to his friends, 
‘You’ve got to see me out of this scrape, or 
“Lady Teazle” won’t be wanted at New- 
market. ’ Now, the stable had already picked 


88 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 


up a lot of money at long shots about the mare, 
and they weren’t likely to miss such a gold- 
field as they had before them, if they could 
help it.” 

“Good!” observed the lawyer approvingly; 
“ that’s the whole of your story as far as that 
part of the case goes.” 

Mr. Horwich nodded. 

“ Summed up, it comes to this. It was very 
much to the intei-est of Fletcher and Brooklyn 
that Howden Craft should be acquitted of the 
charge of highway robbery, and to that end we 
consider they perjured themselves, but are un- 
able to prove it. That’s all it comes to in the 
eye of the law. I’m sorry to say, Mr. Hor- 
wich, this case doesn’t seem to have advanced 
in the least since I last handled it.” 

The bookmaker’s face fell considerably. 

“ Now, I’ll tell you two or three things you 
want to know,” continued the lawyer. “Oddly 
enough, we happened to know that Howden 
Craft had lost a great deal of money here that 
week, although it was generally supposed that 


t 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL' S. 89 

the gentlemen had had a rattling good meet- 
ing, and the St. Katherine’s party in particular, 
and there were one or two men staying there 
who were heavy bettors — Captain Fladhury, 
for instance. Whom you may probably know.” 

“Very well indeed, sir,” replied the book- 
maker. “ The Captain and I have done busi- 
ness together often.” 

“Mr. Elton could hardly be described as 
such, but he became so upOn this occasion. 
He wasn’t much of a race-goer, but he 
thoroughly enjoyed Doncaster. He always, as 
he expressed it, had a gamble over the Leger 
week, and almost as invariably lost his money : 
he was bound to. His eccentricity was this — 
he allowed himself a certain sum of money 
every year to play with in that week, and when 
that was gone he stopped ; but when he won he 
left it down, and the consequence was it ac- 
cumulated very rapidly, and that meeting ho 
won a very large sum for him, and he was just 
the man to exult and laugh over it among 
his friends. We had, however, something 


00 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 

more to go upon, but that secret is not mine. 
Since I first saw you I have seen the gentleman 
whose it is, and I am not at liberty to disclose 
it; but this I can tell you: if we hadn’t had a 
very plausible conynunication from London we 
should probably have never taken the case into 
court. I tell you honestly, there’s a good deal 
to unearth yet before you make anything of 
it, even presuming Graft is guilty. And then 
what is your object? The man has been al- 
ready acquitted ; you can’t put him on his trial 
again, you know.” 

“Can’t I socially expose him?” exclaimed 
the bookmaker anxiously, “or rather threaten 
to do so unless he complies with certain condi- 
tions I intend to impose upon him?” 

“The case, ’’said Dawes, “lies in a nut-shell. 
If the alibi is true, then Howden Craft is an 
innocent man. If ever you can prove it false, 
then, you can prosecute one or all concerned in 
itfo.^ perjury, and that for your purpose would 
be quite sufficient. Craft may escape any per- 
sonal consequences of such a trial, but he will 


A 3IEMBER- OF TATTERSALL'S. 91 

be socially gibbeted. The public would know 
who robbed John Elton and practically short- 
ened his life. You’ve nothing more to tell me, 

I suppose?” 

“ Not just now,” replied Mr. Horwich as he 
picked up his hat. “I don’t forget that you 
want facts, but I think I see my way into get- 
ting at all about that ‘Falcon’ dinner.” 

“ Good-by, Mr. Horwich. There are plenty 
of us at Doncaster, for more reasons than one, 
would like to see the assailant of poor John 
Elton get his deserts. Make every inquiry 
you can about the men who were present at 
that dinner, and remember this, an alibi is 
like a balloon, the slightest prick is sufficient 
to burst it.” 

When Mr. Horwich got back to “The Salu- 
tation” he found a letter awaiting him at the 
bar, which he at once recognized to be from 
Captain Fladbury. He inclosed a letter ad- 
■ dressed to Colonel Gunnersley, Haneton Lodge, 
and accompanying it were a few lines which 
ran as follows : 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’ S. 


“ I send you an introduction to Colonel Gun- 
nersley, who is a magistrate on the Doncaster 
bench, and was further a very intimate friend 
of John Elton’s. He took a great interest in 
Craft’s case, and was one of the magisteates 
who committed him for trial. Whether he 
will see you and discuss it, I can’t say. I have 
told him quite clearly what you want, and 
therefore if he does see you, he will, no doubt, 
have no objection to talk it over with you, and, 
perhaps, give his own opinion upon it. 

“ I read the account of the affair over again 
in the ‘Annual Eegister’ the other night, and 
came to the conclusion that it all turned upon 
the alibi. If that was true, Howden Craft has 
been a very hardly used man ; if it is false, he 
ought to have been hung, and kicking him out 
from the midst of honest men isn’t half as 
much as he deserves. As for the men who 
were present at that dinner at the ‘Falcon, ’ you 
know all about Fletcher and Brooklyn; they 
are not very particular, hut I don’t think they 
would go that far. As for Welside, I know 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 


93 


all about him; he wouldn’t commit perjury. 
As for Clawson, the man who has gone away 
to America, if you don’t haj^pen to know, you 
are not likely to find out anything about him 
nov.'. It strikes me that Mr. Abednego would 
pay for looking up. He described himself, I 
see, as a financial agent, a good comprehensive 
term which includes rogues of all sizes as well 
as honest men. His evidence read wonderfully 
clear and firm ; I should think he had been in 
the witness-box before. I am looking at the 
whole thing rather from your point of view, 
but if the whole thing is a thundering lie, it 
ought to be exposed. 

“Colonel Gunnersley commanded the 12th 
Lancers when I joined them. I know him 
well. He stands no nonsense, and don’t do 
things by halves. Cecil Fladbury.” 

“It’s very good of the Captain,” muttered 
Mr. Horwich as he finished the above letter, 
“ and this Colonel Gunnersley could probably 
give me just the hint I want, if he would, but 


94 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 


they’re all too cautious like ; they want to see 
all my cards, and they won’t show their own. 
Dawes has told me nothing, except that, like 
myself, they knew Craft had lost a lot of money 
that week. He urges me to find out all I can 
about the past lives of the witnesses to this 
alibi, and now here’s the Captain urging me 
on to the. same thing, and suggesting Mr. 
Abednego to begin with. The Captain don’t 
know much of Mr. Abednego, that’s very cer- 
tain, or he would know there wasn’t much 
chance of coming at Abednego ’s doings, past, 
present, and to come. I can hold my own with 
most men, and am not very particular who I 
‘take on, ’ hut he's rather too stiff a nut to crack. 
Now, I’ll just call upon Colonel Gunnersley, 
and see if I can make anything out of him, 
and then I’m off back to London, and I’ll see 
what I can make of the ‘Falcon. ’ ” 


'r>Si ' ■■ 

CHAPTER VII. . ' 

MR. ABEDNEGO. 

Mr. Horwich drove over to Haneton the 
next morning, which was about equidistant 
both from Doncaster and St. Katherine ’s^ to 
try what Fladbury’s letter would do for him 
with Colonel Gunnersley. He found that the 
Colonel was in, and, after the lapse of a few 
minutes, was further informed that he would 
see him. Following the servant, he was ush- 
ered into the library, where, with his back to 
the fire, stood a keen-eyed, middle-aged man 
of medium height and with the manner of one 
long accustomed to command. 

“Sit down, Mr. Horwich,” said the Colonel, 
pointing to a chair. “ Captain Fladbury’s let- 
ter has told me who you are, and what you 
want. Speak plainly or not at all. Why?” 

In a few words the bookmaker explained 
95 


96 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 


ithat Howden Craft had deceived and deserted 
his niece; that despite his acquittal he had 
always believed that Craft had perpetrated the 
robbery; that could he succeed in collecting 
proof that it was so, '‘his object , was, tin return 
for silence on the subject, to insist that Craft 
should many his niece, and then, having made 
her an honest woman, leave her at the church- 
door and quit the country in the course of a 
week. 

“ And what help do you suppose that I can 
give you in this scheme? What makes you 
come to me?” 

Mr. Horwich’s fraternity are quick judges 
of human nature, and a,lways disposed to brev- 
ity of speech in their own business. The book- 
maker sa,w at once that the Colonel was a man 
who disliked babble. 

“You were one of the magistrates who com- 
mitted him for trial. I want to know why 
you did so?” 

“Evidence not sufficient, you thought, eh?” 
said the Colonel. 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 97 

‘‘ It struok me so, sir,” replied the bookmaker. 

“Quite right,” rejoined the Colonel, “and 
it was in consequence of the weakness of our 
case that we refrained from pressing them 
rather hard on that alibi at the trial. If we 
had proved that dinner to be all a fraud, we 
couldn’t have proved that Craft committed the 
robbery. All I can tell you now is, that, un- 
der certain circumstances, the case might be 
reoj)ened, and would be found considerably 
stronger against Craft than it was before.” 

“You can give me no assistance, then?” 

“ None, ” replied the Colonel. “To hunt his 
murderer to death wouldn’t bring John Elton 
to life again, and there’s the family name to be 
considered.” 

There was a dead silence ; but instead of 
taking his leave, as the Colonel had antici- 
pated, the bookmaker sat with wide-opened 
eyes and his face working strangely. 

“ Murderer I” he exclaimed, at length. “ Do 
you mean to say that this Craft had any hand 

in the death of Mr. Elton?” 

7 


88 


.4 MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 


“ Mr. Elton’s death was the result of the in- 
juries he received on the occasion of that rob- 
bery, as sure as if he had been left on the moor 
dead at the time. Whoever committed the 
robbery killed him.” 

The bookmaker got up slowly, and then said, 
“I can’t shape it all out now, this may make 
a difference; but I’ll hunt that Craft to my 
dying day, if he attempts to remain in Eng- 
land. You gentlemen feel different on these 
points from us, perhaps. I thought Mr. Elton 
was a friend of yours.” 

“So he was, and a very great one,” rejoined 
the Colonel. 

“If he had been one of mine, I’d have hung 
the man who killed him, if he’d been my own 
brother,” said Ml’. Horwich. “Good-by, sir,” 
and the bookmaker hurried out of the room, 
leaving Colonel Gunnersley with knit brows 
and an angry gleam in his dark eyes, for the 
Colonel was not a man who brooked being dic- 
tated to as to his duties in this life. 

Mr. Horwich began to be a little confused 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 


99 


about his original scheme ; in short, after what 
the Colonel had told him, he was not sure of 
what he wanted exactly. If this was true — 
and it probably was — Howden Craft was virtu- 
ally a murderer as well as a robber. Even 
supposing this man was in his power, he began 
to think he should no longer want him to do 
Lizzie justice. Better that the girl remained 
unmarried, than that she should be legally 
linked to such a precious scoundrel. He would 
take vengeance on Craft for the wrong he had 
brought her ; but he wanted no more. Better, 
indeed, that his niece should neither see nor 
hear of him again. Then Mr. Horwich began 
to wonder whether he had better see Dawes 
again before he returned to town. His visit 
to Doncaster had been a disappointment, and 
what made it still more aggravating was that 
he was convinced that his idea was correct, 
and that both the lawyer and Colonel Gunners- 
ley had far stronger grounds for suspecting 
Howden Craft than had appeared at the trial. 
But it was no use; the Colonel wouldn’t speak. 


100 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 

ftnd Dawes said he couldn’t. Weil, he had 
found out this: it was Colonel Grunnersley’s 
secret that Dawes had refused to disclose, and, 
finally; Mr. HorWich resolved to try once more 
if he couldn’t wring something out of the at- 
torney. He found Mr. Dawes disengaged, and 
proceeded at once to give him an account of 
his interview with Colonel Gunnersley. He 
told him that the Colonel had made no scruple 
of owning that he was in possession of evidence 
against Craft which had not been made pub- 
lic; that he, the Colonel, had expressed his 
opinion very decidedly as regarded Craft’s 
guilt, and that the Colonel was, no doubt, the 
person whose secret Mr. Dawes declined to 
divulge. ’■ 

“ If the Colonel said as much as that, I may 
as well at once adnait he is; but if he did not 
choose to tell it you himself, I need scarcely 
say that I shall not.” 

“ Then there’s no more to be said,” remarked 
Mr. Harwich. “I’m off to town this after- 
noon, and must work out this riddle by myself. 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 


101 


You know something down here which would 
probably assist me considerably; still, if you 
won’t open your mouths, I can’t help it, but 
you may rely upon one things with your help 
or without it. I’ll never rest till I’ve done the 
worst I can to that scoundrel Craft. As I told 
Colonel Gunnersley, he may choose to let the 
murderer of his friend go scot-free, but that’s 
not my temper. The betrayer of my niece 
shall pay dearly for it if I can make him.” 

“You are very much in earnest,” returned 
the lawyer, “ but as I told you before, if you 
can only prove that altbz a fraud, such ven- 
geance as it is now possible to wreak upon How- 
den Craft lies within your grasp; and to pene- 
trate that, I assure you Colonel Gunnersley’s 
secret wouldn’t help you a bit.” 

They shook hands, and an hour or two later 
the bookmaker had said farewell to “ The Salu- 
tation,” and was on his way to London. 

“An energetic man,” quoth the attorney, 
“and if he’d been in possession of his present 
knowledge would have been a valuable co- 


102 A MEyiB:ER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 

operator at the time of the trial. It’s too late 
now, and the truth about that will never 
he discovered.” 

The racing season is over, and the cream of 
the shooting pretty well also. Most hosts have 
shot their covers, and, except either the driving 
of wild partridges or endeavors to pick up a 
few snipe, there is not much to he done. A 
long frost has stopped the hunting and brought 
Cis Fladhury back to town. That gentleman 
is rather bored at present, and much put to 
it as to how to get through his time. He is 
beginning to remember that he is a Light 
Dragoon, thinks it just as well that his leave 
is nearly up, and that a spell of soldiering at 
Norwich would be a pleasant change just at 
present. He has struck a vein of bad luck too 
at the whist table, and reflects that, under the 
circumstances, the modest points of the regi- 
mental rubber would be preferable to the higher 
stakes at the club. He is brooding moodily 
over the dulness of things generally, and eat- 


-4 MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 103 

ing a solitary dinner at the “ Thermopolium, ” 
when the next table is suddenly occupied by 
an old friend who has resigned his military 
career for an appointment in the London police. 
After a long gossip over old times, and in- 
quiries after mutual friends with whom they 
had been quartered in days of yore, but who 
were now scattered far and wide over the 
world, the conversation turns upon the latter’s 
appointment, and it calls to Cis’ mind the 
charge against Craft, and he asks his friend 
whether he recollects the trial. 

“Not at all accurately,” replied the other. 
“ I was out of England at the time, and knew 
neither Craft nor any of those concerned in the 
whole business. It was before I got my pres- 
ent appointment, and such things didn’t make 
the impression upon me then that they do now. 
I fancy it made a great sensation in London.” 

“I suppose you fellows could reckon up any- 
body in London?”. 

“No, indeed,” replied the other, laughing. 
“ Unless you belong, or were suspected to be- 


104 


.4 MEMBER OF TATTERSALUS. 

long, to the criminal classes, they wouldn’t 
have your biography in ‘the Yard. • Of course 
our men know, and it’s their duty to know 
also, all prominent people in London by sight, 
but such knowledge as you mean is confined to 
the detective department, and I have nothing 
to do with that branch. But what is it you 
want to know?” 

“Well, there were some of the witnesses in 
Craft’s case that I should like to know the his- 
tory of. Do you suppose they could tell me?’^ 
said Cis. 

“Can’t say,” rejoined the other. “If they 
knew anything, I should have thought it would 
have come out at the time. However, you’ve 
only to go down and inquire.” And then they 
began to talk once more on indifferent sub- 
jects. 

Cis, as we know, had already made up his 
mind that the two people whose antecedents 
ought to be inquired into were Clawson and 
Abednego. As he had told Mr. Horwich, as 
they did not know v/here Clawson was, it would 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL S. 105 

be probably difficult to learn much about him, 
but he was sure he could find out all there was 
to know about Mr. Abednego; Cis determined 
to make a few inquiries into the past of these 
two worthies. Even of Clawson the police 
might know something; besides, he might 
have returned to this country long ago, for all 
they knew. At Scotland Yard they were very 
plain with him, referred to their books and 
looked up the case. “But,” said the officer 
who had been told off to answer his inquiries, 
“ we can hardly be said to have been employed 
at all in this business. And, moreover, I 
don’t know that we could have been any good 
to the prosecution if we had. We had nothing 
against any one of the witnesses. We knew 
nothing of Clawson ; but it struck us that, if 
we’d got orders to do so, he was the one who 
would have paid best for reckoning up. His 
leaving the country before the trial looked as 
if they were afraid to trust him in the box ; 
while about Mr. Abednego we could have told 
nothing that was the slightest good. He’s 


IOC A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’ S. 

a very clever man ; we suspected him then, as 
we suspect him now, of being the organizer of 
more than one big robbery and fraud. We 
think there are a good many of the top sawyers 
among our chickens who could throw an ex- 
traordinary light upon Mr. Abednego’s past if 
they could be made to speak. He’s a gentle- 
man who dabbles in a great many trades^ — he’s 
a diamond merchant among others, and we 
are strongly of opinion that he’s the cleverest 
fence in London, and that he’s as clever at 
organizing a defence as the sharpest attorney 
who practises in the criminal courts. The 
most suspicious thing in our eyes about that 
alibi was Mr. Abednego being one of the wit- 
nesses; but, with all this. Captain Fladbury, 
bear in mind we have positively nothing 
against the man.” 

Cis thanked the officer and walked out of 
Scotland Yard more puzzled than ever (the 
police had not as yet moved out of the old v.'ell- 
known headquarters) . Since he had listened 
to their supposed portrait of Mr. Abednego as 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 107 

he really was, in contrast with the respectable 
man of business the world pictured him, he 
had no doubt whatever that the dinner at the 
“ Falcon” was an ingenious fraud. But how 
had it been accomplished ? That the dinner had 
taken place there could be no doubt ; granting 
that Fletcher, Brooklyn, and Mr. Abednego 
had all perjured themselves, it was impossible 
to believe that a man in Welside’s position 
could have done so. It was not likely that 
the waiters, the landlord of the “Falcon,” and 
his books, should all testify that such a dinner 
had taken place if it had not. Let Mr. Abed- 
nego be clever as the police gave him credit for, 
it seemed impossible that he could have con- 
cocted such a gigantic lie as this, and induced 
all these people to swear to it ; and yet if this 
dinner did actually take place. Craft’s exculpa- 
tion was complete. “ I wonder whether Hor- 
wich has made any thing out of Mr. Abednego ; 
whether he knows anything about him. From 
what the police told me, I should think not • 
but some of these ring-men who live in town 


108 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 


come across a good many side-lights upon men 
who have dealings in money; and I have 
no doubt, among his other avocations, Mr. 
Abednego lends that at a price. The whole 
business is beyond me, and the only chance I 
can see of ever getting at the rights of it is 
coming across Clawson. If it is a fraud, he 
was in it, and knows how it was managed. 
And, as that fellow said at Scotland Yard, it 
looks a little as if the others were afraid to 
trust him. His disappearing before the trial 
was as odd as Craft’s disappearance immedi- 
ately afterward. I wonder if the two met in 
America. Well, I can do no more, though 
I really should like to know the answer to the 
riddle. Horwich must work the thing out for 
himself now, for next week my country again 
demands my services, and I shall be quite glad 
to get back to the old regiment.” 


CHAPTEE VIII. 

THE FALCON HOTEL. 

Lizzie Penistone had heard nothing of her 
uncle since the night he had quitted her in 
dudgeon. She knew he was a fierce-tempered, 
obstinate man when aroused, and she knew 
that he would never rest until he stood face to 
face with Howden Craft. She knew that 
Howden was self-willed and had to drive, and 
in her anxiety to prevent a collision between 
those two she had allowed the fact that she 
was not really married to escape her. It was 
too late now ; his suspicions once aroused, she 
knew that her uncle would want ample proof 
of that marriage before he believed in it. 
It was too late to retract her admission, and 
yet she was afraid that she had done more harm 
by it than by keeping up the fiction that she 

was lawfully wedded. If her uncle had vowed 
109 


110 


A jyEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 

k 

that Craft should do her justice by openly ac- 
knowledging her as his wife, he would be likely 
to still more sternly insist upon his making her 
in reality what she professed to be. She was 
too proud to become Howden’s wife by compul- 
sion. If he had not love enough left for her to 
make him right her before the world, better 
that all should be over between them. But she 
was afraid that it might be within her uncle’s 
power to w^ork Howden harm. She believed 
that there was a weak joint in his armor, and 
that, what is more, her uncle had unwittingly 
blundered upon it. Nothing could be more 
unfortunate than that he should have discov- 
ered that she had assisted for those few days 
at the Falcon.” It was possible that it might 
not occur to him to make inquiries there ; but 
he was a sharp man, and though she had never 
understood it all, she did know that Howden 
had bidden her never to admit to any one that 
she had been there at all ; that he wished, in 
short, that nobody should ever know that she 
had held such a situation. She had thought at 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’ S. Ill 

-Of \'n- 

the time that pride had something to say to it^ 
that he did not wish it to be known that his 
future wife had held what he deemed so derog- 
atory a position. 

What might be the result of any such in- 
quiries on the part of Mr. Horwich, she did not 
exactly know. She would have stopped them 
if she could ; but though powerless to do that, 
she could at all events go to the “ Falcon” and 
ascertain if her uncle had been there, and what 
had been the drift of his questions. In pursu- 
ance of this idea, Lizzie took the earliest oppor- 
tunity of paying the hotel a visit, and, entering 
the bar, at once inquired for Harriet Starr. 

“Why,” exclaimed one of the presiding god- 
desses in reply, “if it ain’t Miss Clover! Do 
come in and have a cup of tea. Why, you’ve 
never been to see us since that time you came 
and played at being barmaid for a week. 
You’ll find Harriet inside; it’s her turn off.” 

The bar at the “ Falcon” was a good-sized 
room, being in effect a combination of bar and 
office, such as is not uncommon in some of the 


113 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 

li'ewly built hotels. It was a popular r^brt 
with some of the faster city men, who would 
drop in there for a glass of sherry and hitters 
and to pick up the lastest doings at Tattersall’s 
or the Victoria Club ; for it was a hotel with 
decidedly sporting characteristics, and there 
was always a sprinkling of racing-men to be 
found lounging in front of the spacious counter 
between four and five. It was, so to speak, 
the confiuence of two streams, the one flowing 
from Tattersall’s eastward, and the other from 
the Stock Exchange and its purlieus to the west. 
There were always two or three young ladies 
in the bar to attend to the requirements of its 
numerous clientelle, whether for immediate 
refreshment or for the ordering of dinners later 
on, to say nothing of the reserve staff in the 
little parlor at the back of the bar. 

“I’ll come and have a chat,” continued the 
girl, “ as soon as I can get away. Harriet will 
take care of you in the mean time.” 

Entering the inner room, Lizzie was at oiice 
warmly greeted by her cousin. 


AiMElrlBERr^F TATTERSALL' S. 113 

It’s -not often I get a glimpse of you since 
I got discontented with the country and took a 
situation in London. Mother tells me you get 
out to Willesden and see them all sometimes, 
but I suppose that, like myself, you’ve^not 
many days to spare?” 

“No; and you? You must like your life 
here, or you wouldn’t have stayed so long. 
Ah !’’ continued Lizzie, laughing, “you used to 
complain at home that you hadn’t enough to 
do. I fancy from my brief experience you 
don’t find that the case here?” 

“No, indeed,” rejoined the other cheerily. 
“The trouble is here, that we haven’t time 
to sit down, but I don’t complain; if we 
always have our hands full, the proprietor, 
Mr. Edwards, if yeu recollect, is very consid- 
erate. ” 

“You look well, Harriet; but tell me, have 
you seen my uncle here lately?” 

“Your uncle !” ejaculated Miss Starr. “ Oh, 
yes, you mean Mr. Horwich. I’d almost for- 
gotten he was your uncle, you know. I don’t 
8 


114 A ME3IBER OF TATTERSALrS, 

know much of him; he’s not one of our regu- 
lar customers, and only comes here occasionally. 
No, I don’t remember having seen him for 
some time.” 

‘‘I want you to do me a favor, Harriet. 
You recollect the time you wanted a rest, and 
I volunteered to take your place here for a 
week?” 

The other nodded. 

Now, my uncle either saw me or thouglifhe 
saw me at that time, and after all these years 
he wants to make a fuss about it, and vows he’ll 
come down here and inquire whether he was 
right or wrong about seeing me.” 

^^Good gracious! Why, what business on 
earth is it of his?” 

“None; but if he finds out he’s right, he’ll 
begin to talk about it, and that’ll make all 
sorts of unpleasantness. My husband didn’t 
at all like my taking the situation, and would 
never have allowed me to do it if we hadn’t 
been very hard up at the time.” 

Lizzie Penistone was firmly believed by her 


115 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’S. 

family to be a wife temporarily separated from 
her husband, though none of them had ever 
set eyes upon Clover, who was supposed to 
have gone to America to seek his fortune. 

“Well, I’m sure,” replied Miss Starr rather 
huffily, “there’s no necessity for him to be so 
uppish. Barmaids have married as good as 
him, I dare say, many a time.” 

“ No, no, I don’t mean that. Don’t be fool- 
ish, Harriet. Of course I know that ; but men 
have their whims. It’s only a small thing I 
ask you to do.” 

“ He shan’t get a w'ord out of me even if he 
does come ‘snooping’ around,” rejoined Miss 
Starr, who was a good-natured girl, pursing 
up her lips. “ And except Miss Young, whom 
you must have passed as you came in, we’ve 
nobody left in the bar who was here at the 
time, and I’ve no doubt she won’t say any- 
thing if you tell her not. I’ll just go out and 
take her place, and send, her in to you, so that 
you can settle it at once. Promise not to hurry 
away ; the rush of business will be over in half 


116 A .ySMBEH OF TATTERSALL'S. 
an hour, and then I’ll come back.” And with 

, - . . . .. XV . - 

this Harriet Starr left the room and sent Miss 
Young to entertain her cousin. 

This latter young lady had taken a great 
fancy to Lizzie during her brief sojourn at the 
“Falcon,” and willingly gave the required 
promise. “Of course I’ll never admit you 
were here, my dear, now you have told me. 
We all have to stand by each other in this way 
at times. My home, for instance, is as dull as 
ditch-water, and I don’t trouble it any more 
than I can help, but it would never do when I 
told them I could not come and see them on 
account of press of business, if on coming down 
here to look for me they were informed that I 
was walking out with my young man on that 
particular day. No, we’ve all our little secrets. 
I wish there was any chance of your coming 
back to us. You recollect what a fuss there 
was about that dinner — that dinner they tried 
to bounce us out of? I don’t mean the gentle- 
men who were at it; they not only paid for it, 
but came forward and swore that they ate it. 


a SIEMS^ER OF TATTEBSALL'S. 117 

It all came along ofVtbat case of that poor 
young man.” 

“Ah, that’s it,” interrupted Lizzie eagerly. 
“It was all on account of some dinner that took 
place white I was here that my uncle’s making 
all this fuss about. He pretends that I met 
somebody at it that I ought not to have done, 
and when my Uncle Tom gets a thing into his 
head he’s that obstinate nobody can ever con- 
vince him he’s wrong. But never mind the 
dinner. Tell me something about yourself.” 
And Miss Young, whose interest in the dinner 
had been of the most evanescent character, 
readily complied, and their talk at once drifted 
into those topics of conversation congenial to 
Miss Young’s class generally. The perfections 
of her sweetheart and the doings at the 
theatre and music-halls were all subjects on 
which Miss Young delighted to dilate, and 
when Harriet Starr joined them she found 
them freely criticising the last popular plays 
and songs of the day. 

After half an hour’s more gossip, Lizzie rose 


118 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’S. 

and declared she must be going home; and, 
having said good-by to her companions, 
walked away with a sense of great relief, both 
her cousin and Miss Young standing pledged 
to preserve strict silence as to her having been 
employed at the “Falcon,” and to give that in- 
quisitive uncle of Miss Clover’s no information 
about dinners of any kind. “ What an idea ! 
Did he suppose they were ready to come and 
have a cutlet in the coffee-room with the first 
stranger that asked them?” and Miss Starr 
quite snorted with indignation at the supposi- 
tion, while Miss Young declared she was not 
going out of her way to satisfy the curiosity of 
such a horrid old wretch. Want of apprecia- 
tion of Miss Young’s fascinations may perhaps 
have had something to say to this unwarranted 
verdict against Mr. Horwich. 

It was with some little difficulty that Colonel 
Gunnersley refrained from hurling a tremen- 
dous malediction at the bookmaker’s head upon 
his last speech. Perhaps the abruptness with 


' A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 119 

which Mr. Horwich made his exit and the 
being taken thoroughly aback combined saved 
the bookmaker froni the fierce rebuke which 
rose to the Colonel’s lips a few seconds after he 
had left the room. That he, Colonel Gunners- 
ley, should have his duty to his dead friend laid 

down to him by a ring-man! Was there 

ever such impudence? It was as if one of his 
late troopers had dictated to him what he ought 
to do in the emergency of battle. Weakness 
and amiability formed no part of the Colonel's 
character. The justice that he dealt out was 
seldom leavened with mercy, and that he of 
all men should be taunted with being backward 
to avenge the death of a friend was incredible. 
He had not earned that reputation, at all events, 
in India, “when sabres were swinging and 
head-pieces ringing he didn’t know about his 
own brother, but Howden Craft would have 
assuredly swung for the results of that robbery 
had it rested with Colonel Gunnersley. He 
couldn’t prove what he knew; but he was a 
man pretty stanch to his convictions, and in 


120 MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 

such cases much inclined toward Jed wood jus- 
tice, namely, 5to hang his man first and try him 
afterward He chafed impatientlyg under Mr. 
Horwich’s gibe. “Yes,” he muttered, “only 
for my promise, I’m not sure even now I 
couldn’t hunt the hound out of the country; 
but my lips are sealed, and no one yet ever 
knew George Gunnersley break his word. It’s 
singular that Craft should have had such 
speedy notice of his uncle’s death; for to see 
whether he had benefited by it was of course 
his object in coming down to Doncaster. He 
could have had no ulterior motive, he couldn’t 
dare to have, with such a suspicion resting on 
him ; he never could dream of Emily Elton be- 
ing anything to him now, and I’m mu^h sur- 
prised she received him at all on his visit down 
here.” 

Now here the Colonel made a very consider- 
able mistake. Because he and a few of his 
cronies round about Doncaster had adhered to 
their original opinion that Craft was guilty, 
they thought that belief must exist among 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 151 

all who knew him. '^Emily Elton, like hther?, ■ 
had always held him innocent of the Crime, - 
and the bias of public opinion at the time of 
the trial had been decidedly in favor of the 
prisoner, while after his acquittal it had been 
by no manner of means what it had pleased 
Howden Craft to represent it in his letters to 
his cousin. What it was now Howden had as 
yet taken no pains to ascertain, further than 
that a strong prejudice existed against him 
among his uncle’s old friends. He had never 
been popular around St. Katherine’s; and 
those who knew him and he had come across 
during his visit to Doncaster, although recog- 
nizing him politely, were undoubtedly cold in 
their manner. The smirch of that charge still 
evidently rested on his name in their eyes. 
As for the world generally, it was only here 
and there that his name lingered in its memory, 
nor was it likely that a sensational trial that 
happened a good four years ago should be still 
alluded to in conversation. Howden Craft no 
doubt had wanted an excuse for going abroad 


123 A IfmiBFR OF TATTERS ALL' 8. 

at the time ; his debts made that imperative, 
and the injustice of the world afforded an ex- 
cellent excuse for so doing. 

Colonel Gunnersley was more put out with 
Mr. Horwich’s visit than he would have liked 
to own. The strong feelings of indignation 
that had swayed him at the time of the rob- 
bery, and which had been partially revived by 
the premature death of John Elton, were once 
more aroused to their highest pitch. He was 
angry to think that any one should have taken 
up the task which he had abandoned, and set 
himself to hunt down the assailant of his old 
friend ; and he was still more angry that his 
promise prevented his giving what assistance 
he could to the attempt. He should be curious 
to know if anything came of it, and thought it 
was very doubtful if Mr. Horwich would com- 
municate any more with him upon the subject. 
However, he could write to that worthy if he 
chose ; he was one of the leading magnates of 
the ring; the Victoria Club would doubtless 
find him, and, if not, Cis Fladbury woixld be 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 123 

sure to know where he was to he found. “ By 
the way,” muttered the Colonel, with a grim 
smile, ‘‘how dare Master Cis send such an 
impertinent villain with that rigmarole story 
to me? I owe him one for that. I’ll ask him 
here and treat him as I used to in the old times 
when I sent for him to the orderly-room. I’ll 
give him a wigging, and stop his claret for 
three days.’^ 

Once more back in London, and Mr. Horwich 
set himself to his task with renewed energy. 
Ho would try what he could make out of Mr. 
Abednego, although he had very little hope of 
making out anything about him, either one way 
or the other. He was a puzzle, he always had 
been a puzzle ; he had a considerable acquaint- 
ance among racing-men, all of whom seemed 
to have a high idea of his astuteness, but knew 
no more about him than Mr. Horwich. He 
sometimes had a commission to throw into the 
turf market, and those to whom he might con- 
fide it were always delighted to do his bidding, 


124 A MEMBER OF TAFTERSALL’S. 

as Mr. Abednego made very few mistakes about 
such things : but he neither owned race-horses 
nor did he himself belong to the ^betting-ring. 
Mr. Horwich was as yet ignorant of the sus- 
picions Scotland Yard entertained about him. 
As regards Clawson, he didn’t know even how 
to begin ; advertising for him, if the thing was 
a fraud, would simply be to arouse the sus- 
picions of all who were concerned in it, while 
to appeal to any detective to discover a man of 
whom you can only tell him the name, and 
wholli you hadn’t heard of for four years, 
seemed absurd. Noj there was only one thing 
for it ; he hadn’t made much out of his visit t 
the “Salutation,” he must try what he couk 
do with the “ Falcon. ” And with this resolve, 
Mr. Horwich betook himself to that resort . 
little before the fashionable hour. But it wa.- 
in vain that he poured libations down his 
throat, in vain that he assumed an air of gal- 
lantry, in vain he made the most compliment- 
ary speeches ; the nymphs behind the bar had 
either entered their situations long after the 


A ^MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’B. 125 

dinner he wished to _inquire about had'jtaken 
place, or they were as unbending ii^their man- 
ner as Benedictine nuns., Miss Starr admitted 

O 

that she had b.een engaged there, but that she 
had been ill at the time he referred to and 
gone home for change of air to her own people. 
Miss Young, with extreme superciliousness, 
informed him that she had nothing to do with 
dinners, he had better inquire in the coffee- 
room, the waiters there might remember some- 
thing about it ; and one and all declared stoutly 
that no Miss Penistone had ever been engaged 
there in their time, which was perfectly true 
as regards them all, with the exception of Har- 
riet Starr, for she only knew this was her cous- 
in’s maiden name. Still, Mr. Horwich’s in- 
quiries told Miss Young that Mrs. Clover and 
Miss Penistone were one and the same person. 


is; ■'U: K 

bs^oy woi: er oJ snog aysi ■"• ■• -' 

. : :. tsh ;C io 8'^iJCr‘^S : H ^ iOXJJ ilOOi ‘^O 

nr e-iRf-y '•i- n; ; ;:;. r riDiY-' ii'- r ;-ri ; 

Yot)'t ■+; f:'." .. :■■- yr'’"! 

CHAPTER IX.- ^ ^ 

COLONEL AND MRS. GUNNERSLEY. 

CiS Fladbury, having re joined his regiment 
in compliance with the usual requirements of 
the service, was now comfortably ensconced at 
Norwich. He soon found it, as his brethren 
of the Twelfth assured him he would, a very 
pleasant quarter. Capital of one of the most 
sporting counties in England, if you can shoot — 
I don’t mean merely let off a gun — and hold 
your own fairly with hounds, you will find 
plenty of pleasant houses open to you. They 
do know something about the killing of par- 
tridges in Norfolk, or, for the matter of that, 
pheasants either, and though the hunting may 
not he quite up to Leicestershire, yet you need 
to be a “customer,” to hold your own in the 
front rank with Mr. Villehois and the West 

Norfolk. Yes, a very sporting county, ad- 
126 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’S. 


vn 


dieted in days gone by to pastimes now voted 
to savor too much of the games of the Coliseum. 
The Norwich school was held in high repute in 
the palmy days of prize-fighting, when it took 
rather more than ten minutes to win a first- 
class battle, and the combatants bore consider- 
ably severer evidence of the fray than a black 
eye. Many of its young men were aspirants 
for London honors, and attained high repute 
in the metropolitan ring. Game fowl were as 
plentiful as woodcocks, and many a main of 
cocks was fought within a short distance of the 
cathedral; and though these sports of that 
merry olden time, when we weren’t, after all, 
so very far removed in our tastes from the days 
when they gave prisoners to the lions, are now 
things of the past, yet the shooting and hunt- 
ing are still of the best. The duty of a regi- 
ment in a country town can rarely fall very 
heavily, and neither Cis nor his comrades found 
any difficulty in snatching a day or two to 
come over and dine and shoot here, or to send 
on a horse and hunt there, and, in short, the 


128 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 

officers of the Twelfth Lancers could only be 
described as being billeted all over the county, 
with just a residue left in the capital to take 
the horses out every morning and attend to 
any other trifling details there might be. As 
an exuberant subaltern described it, “ just like 
perpetual leave, only more so.” 

This was an exceedingly pleasant life, and 
no one was enjoying it more than Cis Fladbury. 
The long frosts were gone, and if the going 
was a little deep, they were having capital 
sport with the hounds now ; while as for game, 
no matter what sort of a year it may be else- 
where, there are always birds in Norfolk. Cis 
had been asked to stay in a house some little 
distance from Norwich for three days’ shoot- 
ing, and having sent his servant over with his 
things, had ridden there himself after a day’s 
hunting. 

He arrived there so late that he had only 
time to hurry to his room and dress. When 
he entered the drawing-room, the party were 
just pairing off for dinner. As he shook hands 


A 2U£MBERtOF TATTERS ALL’S, 129 

with his hostess, she said, “ Just in time,- Gap- 
tain Fladbury ; take Miss Elton in, and you 
can tell us all ahoutiyour sport when you’ve 
had your soup,^ uciHe’s no doubt starving, 
Emily, and a hungry man is a silent creature.” 

“Captain Fladbury and I are bid acquaint- 
ances,” replied the girl, smiling, “although 
we haven’t met for some time.” 

Although the meeting was unexpected, and 
Cis had never set foot in St. Katherine’s since 
that last fatal Doncaster gathering, yet he had 
met Miss Elton occasionally at other houses in 
the vicinity. He admired her exceedingly, 
and thought her a very nice girl to boot ; but 
in consequence of that resolution she had made 
of never leaving her father for more than the 
day, he had not seen very much of her. So 
conscious was he of his weakness concerning 
Miss Elton, that he had gone so far upon one 
occasion as to confide to Mrs. Gunnersley, 
whe»in Yorkshire, after having been Emily’s 
cavalier at dinner, “ Quite as well, you know, 

for some of us she’s made that ridiculous rule. 

9 


130 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 

I’m sure I, for one, should be getting awful 
sweet if I saw much more of her.” 

“Well, that wouldn’t do you any harm,” 
quoth the lady. “ It’s generally considered a 
pleasant state to he in.” 

“No,” replied Cis placidly, “but I might 
lose my head and ask her to marry me. ” 
“Yes,” retorted Mrs. Gunnersley, “and she 
might keep hers and say she wouldn’t.” 

“And then I should be miserable. Don’t 
misunderstand me, Mrs. Gunnersley; I’m in 
earnest, downright earnest. Only I know the 
grapes are beyond my reach I should he a pretty 
had case, I can tell you. ” 

“Well,” replied the lady, laughing, “I’ve 
been the wife of a Lancer all my life, I’ve been 
where soldiers mostly congregate, and seen 
them in all their phases, but a Light Dra- 
goon afflicted with modesty I never saw till 
now.” 

Neither of the twain ever forgot this conver- 
sation, and Mrs. Gunnersley inwardly vowed 
that if ever she got the chance she would do 


■ A, , - ft.- , . : 

A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 131 

her best to bring that match about. Cis Flad- 
bury was not only a special favorite both with 
her and the Colonel, but she knew him to be a 
true and loyal gentleman as ever trod shoe- 
leather ; but there was one thing she did not 
know, and that was the cause of this modesty. 
Cis Fladbury was in possession of a very good 
property when he joined the Lancers, and 
though he had by no means run through it, 
yet he was an extravagant man, and had 
dipped it a good bit. He bet heavily on racing 
at all times, and was quite aware that John 
Elton knew it, and thought it very unlikely 
that with that knowledge he would consent to 
his marrying his daughter. 

Cis and his partner chatted away pleasantly 
enough, but that they should refer to old days 
before long was only natural ; and then Cis, 
considerably to his disgust, found that the 
young lady was not only firmly convinced of 
Howden Craft’s innocence, but, still worse, be- 
trayed far too strong a cousinly affection for 
him, and all her interest concerning him seemed 


133 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' 8. 


far greater in Fladbury’s eyes than there v.’as 
any occasion for. And it was strange how the 
idea that there had heen something serious 
between the two seemed to convince him of 
Howden’s guilt in the matter of the robbery. 
Like most of us, he had been cool enough until 
his feelings were concerned, insisting rigidly 
upon facts, in a manner that would have de- 
lighted Mr. Dawes; but now that he was 
inoculated with jealousy he was prepared to 
believe in any atrocity man or woman might 
think fit to utter against Craft. Those three 
days slipped pleasantly away, and such prog- 
ress did Fladbury make in Emily Elton's 
good graces that significant glances were 
exchanged between the ladies of the party 
upon more than one occasion, as they wit- 
nessed the flirtation between the pair. As he 
bade farewell, Cis expressed a hope that he 
might see Miss Elton again before she left that 
part of the country. 

“I am afraid not,” replied the young lady. 
“I’ve already made an unconscionable visit. 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 


133 


and must go back to my own country in the 
course of next week.” 

“ Then I must, only hope that the Fates will 
carry me to Yorkshire,” rejoined Cis, as, hav- 
ing pressed her hand, he jumped into the 
dog-cart, and took off his hat to the little 
party assembled on the steps to bid him good- 
by. 

The Fates were more propitious to Fladbury 
than he had any reason to expect ; for when, 
having regained the barracks, he reached his 
room, lying on his table he found the invitation 
with which, as we know. Colonel Gunnersley 
had threatened him. The Colonel’s letter was 
cordial in the extreme. He pressed him 
strongly to come and pay him a visit, saying 
he wanted to hear all the news and gossip of 
the old regiment; and further declared that 
Cis was bound to come, if it was only to make 
amends for having let that maligpant book- 
maker loose upon him, with a further assur- 
ance that the invitation was strenuously in- 
dorsed by Mrs. Gunnersley, who threatened all 


134 A MUMBEB OF TATTERSALVS. 

sorts of pains and penalties if he failed to put 
in an appearance. 

^^Go?” muttered Cis as he read this. ^‘Go? 
I should rather think I would. It’s just the 
very chance I want, if I can only manage the 
leave. I’ll go at once to the chief and have a 
talk about it.” 

After a short conference with his colonel, 
Fladbury was successful in obtaining the leave 
he wanted; and the following week saw him 
on his way to Haneton, speculating consider- 
ably as to whether he was likely to come across 
Miss Elton during his brief Yorkshire visit. It 
was something like two years ago that he had 
made that confidence to Mrs. Gunnersley ; and 
though he had met her several times since, she 
had never alluded to it. Other engagements 
had compelled him to decline two invitations 
to Haneton during that time, and Cis knew 
very well -that those refusals might be falsely 
interpreted. He knew that Mrs. Gunnersley 
would say, like any other woman, ihere are 
no engagements a man can’t break if ho cares 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALVS. 135 

for a girl in earnest, and thinks there’s a fair 
chance of meeting her. She knew perfectly 
well when to let well alone; but as she had 
scoffed at the idea of modesty in a Light 
Dragoon, so would she have been merciless in 
her raillery of a half-hearted one; and yet if 
he had hesitated to ask this girl’s hand from her 
father, wouldn’t it he meaner to avoo her now 
that he was no longer there to protect her, and 
she had come into her inheritance? However, 
the laisser oiler was a rather favorite doctrine 
of Fladbury’s, and he determined to adhere to 
. it in this instance — a A^ery comfortable, though 
indolent resolve, that of waiting the course 
of events instead of attempting to direct 
them. 

Cis Avas warmly welcomed at Haneton, 
although' his hostess said merrily, “I’ve got 
not merely a croAv to pick with you, Captain 
Fladbury, but a whole rookery. Nothing but 
your being under arrest is an excuse for your 
not coming here when I want you; and Ave’ve 
had such pleasant people with us on both occa- 


136 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALES. 


sions, it was too provoking you couldn’t 
manage to come to us. ” 

“Don’t I know that?” replied Cis. “Do you 
suppose, Mrs. Gunnersley, that those refusals 
were not written, as the poet has it, ‘in silence 
and tears?’ 

ov “Yes, I. do,” rejoined the lady, laughing; 

and now I must. run away and dress. But 
don’t suppose the scolding is forgotten; it’s 
only postponed.” 

“ Deuced glad to see you, Fladbury,” quoth 
his old chief; “haven’t seen any of the old 
regiment since I lunched on their coach at 
Ascot and pronounced the champagne quite up 
to the old form, although their team was 
rather a scratch one. However, run away. 
Hughes will show you your room, and we’ll 
talk over the bygone days in the smoking-room 
later on.” 

When Cis came down to dinner, he ex- 
perienced a slight sense of disappoin tment. He 
expected to find the house full of company, 
and, the wish being father to the thought, 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 1:^7 

had hoped to find Miss Elton anaong them; 
on the contrary, he found they were; only a 
partie car^e, a Mr. Dawes, whom he never 
met before, being the only guest. 

• -“-‘ Ycmsee your punishment, ” said his hostess, 
laughing, as he led her in to dinner. “ You 
wouldn’^t meet the pleasant people when wo 
had them,' and now the pleasant people won^t 
meet you.’’ 

Although the conversation, as was only 
natural, turned a good deal upon local topics, 
yet the Gunnersleys were people of the world, 
and had something to say about most of the 
affairs of the day. Mr. Dawes, too, could hold 
his own on most subjects, so the conversation 
sped smoothly and gayly enough. In the 
course of it Cis took an opportunity of men- 
tioning his meeting with Miss Elton in Nor- 
folk, but that lady merely replied that she had 
heard Emily had gone away to stay with some 
friends for a short time, but volunteered no in- 
formation about when she Avas expected back, 
and in fact, made no attempt to follow his 


138 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALUS. 


lead in any way. No sooner had Mrs. Gun- 
nersley left them to their claret than the Colonel 
began to laughingly upbraid Cis upon having 
let loose uiK>n him that vengeful bookmaker. 
A little astonished, Cis glanced significantly at 
Dawes. He expected to be questioned pretty 
closely about Mr. Horwich when they got to 
the smoking-room, but was rather surprised at 
the opening of the subject before a stranger. 
The Colonel at once replied to his look, and 
said: 

‘‘You needn’t be afraid about talking the 
matter over before Dawes ; he knows quite as 
much about it as either of us, and had more than 
one long talk with Mr. Horwich on the sub- 
ject. One thing puzzles us: how was it Mr. 
Horwich came to you about the business?” 

“Well, I’m blessed if I know,” replied Cis. 
“You see, I met him in a non -professional way 
at the ordinary at the George Hotel, Not- 
tingham. We had given the ring such a 
slating as, I regret to say, I haven’t assisted 
at since that last memorable week I spent at 


A OF TATTERSALUa. 


139 


John Elton's. Perhaps it was this recalled it 
to his recollection, but he told me then that he 
had heard Howden Craft was in England, and 
asked me if I knew where he was. We got 
chatting about the case, and he asked me to 
help him.” 

“I see,” said Gunnersley, “but in what way 
did he ask you to do that?” 

“ In pretty much the way I’ve done. I found 
out that Craft was or had been at Doncaster, 
and I gave him that letter of introduction to 
you. ” 

“And that’s all?” said the Colonel, with a 
shade of disappointment. 

“Yes, I fancy that’s about all,” replied Cis, 
“but my curiosity was roused, and I reread 
the case. As long as that alibi holds good, it 
doesn’t look as if there could be a doubt of 
Craft’s innocence.” 

“ Have you seen Mr. Horwich lately?” asked 
the lawyer, “because he’s very far from being 
of your opinion.” 

“I haven't seen him since !Nottingha.m,” 


140 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 

replied Cis, “but I kuow that is so. I have 
heard from him once or twice;, but, if he has 
discovered anything, he keeps it to himself.” 

“But your real opinion, mind, agrees with 
Mr. Horwich’s,” exclaimed the Colonel eagerly, 

“Does it?” said Cis languidly. 

“Yes,” continued the Colonel, “you’re quite 
right. Till that evidence is disproved, it is 
wrong to regard Howden Craft as guilty; but, 
like Horwich, I feel that he is, and that alibi 
is all a fraud.” 

“Well, to tell you the truth, between our- 
selves, that’s exactly what I do feel about 
it.” 

“Would you mind telling us, Captain Flad- 
bury, what produced this change of opinion on 
your part in the face of all the Evidence?” in- 
quired Mr. Dawes suavely, and who had been 
watching Cis’ face sharply during the whole 
conversation. 

“ The opinion of the Scotland Yard people 
about one of the gentlemen present at that din- 
ner,” rejoined the Captain, with a very strong 


141 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’S. 

inflection on the word “gentlemen.” “They 
told me they had nothing against Mr.'^Abed- 
nego, hut that they suspected him of a good 
deal, and the mere fact of his being one of the 
witnesses to that alibi made them have grave 
doubts as to its genuineness. ” 

“Hardly sufficient to change your opinion 
on, Captain Fladbury,” remarked [the lawyer, 
laughing. “Scotland Yard only has its sus- 
picions, and we don’t hang men on suspi- 
cion nowadays. Scotland Yard is within its 
right, for Dogberry lays it down, you know, 
‘You may suspect him by virtue of your 
office. ’ ” 

“And you’ve learned nothing more?” said 
the Colonel in an aggrieved tone. 

“Nothing,” rejoined Cis, rising. “Nor, un- 
less Mr. Abednego chooses to speak out, do I 
suppose we ever shall.” 

“No more wine, thank you,” said Dawes, * 
as he followed Fladbury’s example. “But 
why Mr. Abednego? Any one of the others 
would do as well, and such a clever rogue as 


143 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 


he is assumed to be would probably be the last 
man to let the cat out of the bag.” And with 
that the three gentlemen proceeded to join Mrs. 
Gunnersley. 


! - . - ^ - :r ; ■ : - f '7 ^ f ^ 

■ ’a'l'; -ij 1)0 .J- 

^ r^v . j iri y-;- 

'>({ ‘yiv// ,j"i iVfO : '• ■ -. ■ 

/K-., -7 , 

;_';i , ji< | ,. 7 a/ n r " r.^ 

hj ^ ■ ^<7 . * 

-.7 - J- 

' j:;:' '.J^A r(y 7 . : / . - 

V/-. //.!v vbodoa l\^ 

:"■ ". '!'■ • { ■.■!■'■ .'i '■'■?■! Kf 

V. . - : •• ed' .i'v;ir'(.”l! . 



.f?:' 

I’tS-, .«Mli.W\,'A: V''-!-;.; 


^., , „ CHAPTER X. . 

EMILY LOSES HER TEMPER. 

When Dawes, who is not staying in the 
house, took his departure, the Colonel and his 
guest adjourned to the smoking-room, whei’e 
they had a long yarn over their cigars. The 
talk was chiefly confined to regimental gossip, 
and the trial of Howden Craft was no further 
alluded to. When Cis found himself in his 
own room, he was sensible of feeling discon- 
tented, and- feeling rather ashamed of himself 
for being so. 

“Hang it!” he argued, “it will be awfully 
dull. What made them ask me down here 
when they’d nobody staying with them? Of 
course, the Colonel’s an awfully good fellow, 
and his wife’s a better, and I’m awfully fond 

of them both, and the claret and tobacco is 
143 


144 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALVS. 

unexceptionable. An evening of itus all very 
well, but I can’t keep going over the regi- 
mental chaff with old Gixnnersley for a week. 
It will be dull, uncommoii dull.” m 

Could this confidence only have been whis- 
pered into Mrs. Gunnersley’s ear, I fancy that 
lady would have replied sweetly, Will it? 
I’m so sorry, ’’and then have burst into uncon- 
trollable laughter. 

Then he wondered how it was that Mr. 
Dawes had been asked to dinner, for in the 
smoking-room Gunnersley had explained to 
him that Dawes was a solicitor. Thinking it 
over, it struck him as odd that the sole guest 
asked to meet him should have been an attor- 
ney, and, from the turn the conversation had 
taken after dinner, it was pretty evident he 
had been asked on purpose to discuss this case 
of Howden Craft’s. He knew how energetic 
and hot the Colonel had been about it at the 
time, but what could be his object in stirring 
up the matter again after all these years? He 
very imperfectly comprehended Horwich’s mo- 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 145 

tiye, still he did know that revenge for some 
real or imaginary wrong was at the bottom 
of the bookmaker’s animus, and then, Avhat 
had he himself to do with it? The case had 
an extraordinary fascination about it.j Granted 
that the idea once took possession of you that 
the whole thing was a deception, and you be- 
came curious to know how the trick was done, 
and then that last remark of Mr., Dawes’ just 
before they left the dining-room, suddenly oc- 
curred to him, that, as far as the solution of 
the puzzle went, the confession of any one of 
those concerned was as good as any other, 
The attorney had pointed out that it was very 
improbable that a crafty old rogue like Mr. 
Abednego would ever be induced to confess. 
To break a chain, you select its weakest link. 
The same would apply to a chain of evidence. 
He had always said he would I'eckon. up Wel- 
side; he had never taken the trouble to do it, 
but he would. He would make that gentle- 
man’s acquaintance, and that would probably 

settle the question. Stupid of him not to think 
10 


146 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S, 

of it before. Whatever "^elside had sworn, 
he had sworn honestly to, Cis felt^ pretty sure. 
Yes, if, Welside was quite clear j about that 
dinner, it was no use bothering their heads any 
more; and then Cis rbecanie oblivious to all 
things mundane, and sank into deep and un- 
troubled slumbers. 

However, the next day, Fladbury found that 
he was by no means to be the sole guest. In 
the course of the morning, his host informed 
him that several people he knew would arrive 
in the afternoon to spend a few days at Hane- 
ton, and that Miss Elton was to be one of 
them. It changed the aspect of affairs, as far 
as he was concerned, considerably. Between 
gossiping with the Colonel and driving with 
his wife, he found the day slip away pleasantly 
enough, and when he joined Mrs. Gunnersley’s 
tea-table, after their drive, he found not only 
several old acquaintances, but Emily Elton 
among them. The young lady was im- 
doubtedly a little surprised to see him; she 
smiled as she shook hands, and said, “You 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 147 

never told me, Captain Fladbury, that you 
were coming into our part of the world. I 
thought you were too busy taking care of your 
horses and soldiers and things to get away 
from Norwich. You told us all, when you 
said good-by last week, that you couldn’t be 
spared for another hour from your military 
duties. ” 

“Quite true. Miss Elton. This, you. see, is 
part of them. Gunnersley, you see, is our old 
colonel; and if I didn’t report to him confi- 
dentially every now and then about the state 
of the regiment, there’s no saying what might 
happen.” 

The young lady laughed merrily, and then 
the pair dropped into a pleasant chat about 
their friends in Norfolk, etc., while Mrs. Gun- 
nersley secretly congratulated herself on the 
success of her diplomacy, little thinking of the 
storm that was about to burst and shatter the 
web she was so carefully weaving. All that 
evening things went along gayly, and that lady 
came to the conclusion that she had nothing to 


feU8 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 


do -but to let well alone. If Cis and Emily 
Elton did not come to an understanding, with- 
out her assistance, in the course of. this visit, 
she w^ashed her hands of them forever. . But 
in the.. pleasantest parties, there is apt to be 
some unfortunate wight who is destined to 
make the unlucky remark that, to put it mildly, 
mars the harmony of the gathering. He is 
not a man given to speaking maliciously, nor 
is he notorious for always saying the wrong 
thing at the wrong time; but upon the one oc- 
casion he seems to have brought the apple of 
discord in his pocket ; but though he may be 
ready to bite his tongue out on discoveiy of 
his mal d propos remark, there is no recalling 
the word spoken. In the course of conversa- 
i tion, a gentleman from a distant part- of the 
country, and who had pretty well forgotten all 
about the robbery of John Elton, happened to 
say: 

“ I met a man whom I used to know racing 
some years ago, but whom I haven’t seen for 
a long time, in the train the other day. I 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 


149 


fancy he was pretty well known around here— 
Howden Craft.” - 

“Better known than liked,” said Gunnersley 
sententiously. ... 

Emily Elton’s face flushed, and . her eyes 
flashed, as she said in perfectly clear tones : 

“You have no right to say that, Colonel 
Gunnersley. My cousin Howden has many 
wann and true friends round Doncaster. He 
was infamously traduced, and refuted the 
shameful slander, as you well know. You 
never liked him, and took part against him at 
the time, but I’ve always given you credit for 
regretting your mistake.” 

This was like a shell into the midst of the 
whole party. Even those who recollected all 
about the case of Howden Craft were astonished 
at the warmth with which Miss Elton cham- 
pioned her cousin ; but she was a high-spirited 
girl, thoroughly convinced of his innocence, 
and thought the pretending to believe him still 
guilty of a crime of which he had been honor- 
ably acquitted was cruelly unjust. Her face 


150 


*4 MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 


flushed again as she became conscious of the 
f)ause in the conversation that followed he'r 
indignant remonstrance. 

“What an old fool I am!” thought the 
Colonel; “but who could haA^e supposed the 
girl had such a devil of a temper?” 

“Too late, too late,” thought Mrs. Gunners- 
ley. “Oh, Cis Fladbury, why didn’t you ask 
her a year ago? Now she’s entangled with 
that scamp of a cousin.” 

The remainder of the party put much the 
same construction upon Miss Elton’s speech 
that Mrs. Gunnersley did. She would hardly 
have stood up for her cousin so hotly, unless 
they had been something more than cousins. 
Emily was the first to break the silence. 

“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Gunnersley,” she 
said, “if I’ve spoken too strongly, but I do so 
hate injustice.” And she flashed an indignant 
glance at the Colonel which said very plainly 
that, whatever she might do to his wife, she 
apologized not an iota to him. 

“I’m sorry I offended you, Emily,” said the 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 151 

Colonel, “but I have said nothing against your 
cousin, except that he was not popular in the 
neighborhood; and I don't think that he was.” 

“Yes, the words sound harmless enough,” 
said the young lady, disdainfully, “but you 
know what you meant.” 

The subject here dropped ; but the results of 
the conversation, as is often the case, did not, 
and the impression that a particularly good un- 
derstanding existed between the cousins \iras 
more or less stamped upon the minds of all 
present. 

“This won’t do, Lou,” said the Colonel, as 
he wandered into his wife’s room just before 
going down to dinner; “this must be put a 
stop to. You must make her understand what 
a scoundrel he is. By George, you can’t paint 
him too bad. The fellow’s capable of anj'’- 
thing.” 

“You old goose,” rejoined his wife, laugh- 
ing, “don’t you know that the more you run 
Howden Craft down, the more determined she 
would be to marry him? No, no, leave it all 


162 A? MEMBER OF TAITERSALL’S.K 

toome; and mind, don’t let the name of her 
cousin pass your lips. ” : 

+ “ What, do you mean that I am to look 
quietly on, while that scamp carries off the 
nicest girl in the county?” 

‘tLeave it to me,” replied his wife. .,u 

“Leave it to you? Yes, but what are you 
going to do?”' 

“Treat it as the" homeopathists do,” rejoined 
the lady. “Kill one poison by the aid of an- 
other;” and leaving the Colonel considerably 
mystified by this speech, Mrs. Gunnersley 
tripjjed downstairs to dinner. 

But she knew it was high time she inter- 
vened now. She was quite aware that the 
meshes of her scheme were broken, that Cis 
Fladbury was so stupid that he would be all for 
raising the siege when he ought to press the 
citadel hardest. “ I must catch him alone, and 
tell him that if he don’t win Emily Elton, he’s 
not fit to command a troop in the dear old 
Twelfth, and he ought to be ashamed of him- 
self.” 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALVS.k 153 

Mrs. Gunners] ey :. had taken a verj^ correct 
view of the situation. “ I suppose it’s too late,” 
thought Cis; “there can’t be a doubt about it 
now, she’s engaged to that fellow, Craft. We 
get on very well, and are very good friends:; 
but thS minute I go too far, the minute I want 
to be something more, I shall be sent about my 
business. There’s one thing, though, I will, 
do : I will do my very best to find out the truth 
about that alibi. If Craft is innocent, I’ve no 
more to say; but if I can prove him guilty, I 
have a right to, at all events, let her marry 
him with her eyes opened. In consequence of 
her father’s recent death, she can’t marry him 
just yet; so that gives one some little time.” 

But the Fates positively refused to favor 
Mrs. Gunnersley’s machinations. Although 
she managed to have a quiet tete-d-tSte with 
Cis in the course of the evening, yet she found 
him somewhat refractory and difficult to per- 
suade that any further prosecution of his suit 
at present could possibly be attended with sue-. 


cess. 


154 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 

Emily Elton, too, was quite aware that she 
had placed herself in an awkward situation by 
her warm defence of her cousin. She could 
see how the rest of the party had read her inter- 
ference, and she was certainly not desirous that 
a rumor of that kind should get about. She 
liked her cousin, believed in his innocence, 
and thought he had been hardly dealt with ; 
but she certainly so far had not even a thought 
of any deeper feeling concerning him. It was 
not so easy to set this matter right ; she could 
not ostentatiously disavow an engagement 
with a man who, she was obliged to confess, 
had never attempted to exceed the bounds of 
cousinly intimacy. She was quite as dissatis- 
fied with the turn things had taken as Mrs. 
Gunnersley, and noticed keenly that Fladbury 
tacitly avoided her the whole evening, and she 
had found that gentleman’s attentions of late 
more pleasant than she would care to own. 
But when she came down to breakfast the 
next morning, she found the situation still fur- 
ther complicated. Among her letters was one 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 155 

from Howden Craft, saying that he should 
be in Doncaster that afternoon, he hoped in 
time to walk over to St. Katherine ^s and have 
a cup of tea with her. 

“ How very provoking his coming this week, ” 
was her first thought. “What am I to do 
about it?” And her fii’st impulse was to say 
nothing about it, but keep her cousin’s arrival 
to herself. Then it flashed through her mind 
that Howden was well known by sight to half 
the people in Doncaster, and it was very prob- 
able some of the party might go into the town 
in the course of the day, and that in any case 
the news of Howden’s presence would not be 
long before it came out to Haneton. She re- 
solved to take the bull by the horns, and, turn- 
ing to her hostess, said audibly, and with just 
a touch of defiance in her tone : 

“Another confirmation of the old proverb, 
Mrs. Gunnersley. We were talking yesterday 
of my cousin Howden. I have got a letter 
from him to say that he’s coming down to 
Doncaster again for two or thi’ee days. I don’t 


156 


A MEMBER OF TATTEP^ALL' S. 


suppose he’ll stay long, but L shall hope to get 
a glimpse of him while he is here. ” ■ Sj 

A chilling silence followed this speech. After 
yesterday’s passage of arms between herself 
and the Colonel, it was not likely that any of 
the rest of the party would venture a*i'emark 
on such a delicate subject. Mrs. Gunnersley, 
who was as hospitable a lady as was ever at 
the head of a household, knew that, out of com- 
pliment to Emily, she ought to express a wish 
at least to see Mr. Craft to dinner that even- 
ing, and take measures accordingly. But the 
Colonel had vowed, many a time and oft, that 
Howden Craft should never cross his threshold 
again. All she could do, therefore, was to ac- 
knowledge Emily’s news with a smile. 

“No doubt you will manage that, but you can 
hardly expect him to stay long. Doncaster is 
not a very lively place, except in the race- week. ” 
“He’s only coming down to see a few old 
friends, myself I hope among the number,” 
rejoined Miss Elton, slightly emphasizing the 
word “friends.” 

Mrs. Gunnersley made no reply. What was 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’ S. 157 

to be, done? In truth she could think of noth- 
ing. She could do pretty well what she liked 
with the Colonel in the main, but she knew 
where to stop, and she dared not ask Howden 
Craft to Haneton even had she wished it. 
“That the wretch should ever have turned iip 
again was bad enough,” she explained to a 
confidante mmQ months afterward, “but that 
he should have turned up that week of all 
others was enough to make any woman swear ; 
and as for Emily, I could have shook her.” 
But the final blow was still to come ; and when 
Miss Elton in the course of the morning an- 
nounced that she must return home in the 
afternoon, and sent word for the carriage to 
come for her, Mrs. Gunnersley’s discomfiture 
was complete. The checkmate was very pret- 
tily put, and quite unanswerable. 

“I’ve so few relations, you know, dear Mrs. - 
Gunnersley, that I can’t afford to cut one of 
the few cousins I possess. With the Colonel’s 
prejudices, it is hardly possible for you to ask 
Howden here, as I know you woiild like, and 
so, you see, I must go heme.” 


CHAPTER XI. 


THE FIRST RIFT . 

That Mr. Horwich was baffled there was no 
doubt, but he by no means abandoned his deter- 
mination to solve the mystery of that dinner 
on that account. He had not expected to find 
his task an easy one. He had been shrewd 
enough to see, up at Doncaster, that whatever 
Dawes and Colonel Gunnersley might know, 
they would render him no assistance until he 
was in a fair way to solve the problem for him- 
self. ‘^They have no intention of pulling the 
chestnuts out of the fire for me. No; they’re 
quite willing to join in the feast when it’s done, 
and, for reasons of their own, make as big a 
thing of it as possible. I’ve hit the right nail 
on the head, I know. Whether those two girls 
in the bar who admit they were there at the 

time of the dinner can’t tell or won’t tell 
158 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALES. 


159 


whether Lizzie was engaged there at the same 
time, I don’t know; and as for the dinner, it’s 
possible they might forget all about that: but 
don’t tell me that if a girl like my niece, who 
is just a cut above themselves, had been en- 
gaged for a short time in the bar they wouldn’t 
recollect it. They’d reckon her up at the time 
to the color of her neck-ribbon. Not likely 
they’d forget her. They’re a sassy, uppish 
pair, and have made uj) their minds they won’t 
remember. Well, I must try somewhere else. 
The story of that blessed alihi has got to be 
dug out here. As for Mr. Abednego, what’s 
the use of the Captain writing me all this rig- 
marole about what the police think of him? 
He’s too deep for them; it ain’t likely he’s 
going to be turned inside out by the likes of 
me. But I’ve not done with that chap Craft 
yet, and never shall have as long as we live in 
the same country. There ain’t room for us 
both here, and he’s got to go. Now let’s have 
another look at the old trial; now to look out 
the witnesses at the ‘Falcon,’ and see who’s 


It50 A MJiMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 

the likeliest to make inquiries of. Here’s the 
evidence of the' waiters; .well, they don’t seem 
to be of much account, both of them stupid, 
and the head fellow seems to. have been a bit 
obstinate and rather cantankerous as well. 
Ah, here we have it. Edwards,, the manager. 
What an old fool l am ! Why couldn’t I think 
of him before? I dare say he could tell me if 
he had a Miss Penistone in his employ at that 
time. Being called to give' evidence on the 
trial would impress the whole thing on his 
mind. A sharp fellow, too, to look at, though 
I’ve never had any talk with him. Well, I’ll 
just drop down this afternoon and see what I 
can make of him.” 

Accordingly Mr. Horwich presented himself 
at the bar of the “Falcon,” at the hour when 
it was most thronged, and without troubling 
either Miss Starr or Miss Young, though he 
saw them, picked up a disengaged waiter, and 
sent him off with a request to his master for a 
few minutes’ conversation. That functionary 
speedily returned and ushered the bookmaker 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 


101 


into Mr. Edwards’ own room. Although he 
had a mere nodding acquaintance, the manager 
knew Mr. Horwich’s name and calling per- 
fectly well, and, offering his visitor a chair, 
said : 

“ And now, Mr. Horwich, what can I do for 
you? You haven’t come to me about a din- 
ner, I suppose? . Because I leave all that to my 
cook. I pay hun a large salary, and he stays 
no longer than, he gives satisfaction. ” 

“No, no,” replied the other, “I don’t want 
to see the cook, and yet in a way I have come 
to speak about a dinner. You may remember 
the trial of a Mr. Howden Craft for highway 
robbery?” 

“ Perfectly , ” replied the manager. “ I’ve not 
only an excellent memory, but was deeply in- 
terested in the case. Why, the dinner that 
got him off was given at this very house.” 

“Just so,” said Mr. Horwich. “I mention 
it to call to your mind a particular date. That 
dinner was given on the Saturday of the Don- 
caster week, ’87.” 

11 


162 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 

“Exactly,” said Edwards, “and I have my 
hooks to corroborate my memory. What 
about it?” 

“ What I particularly want to ask you is 
whether you had a Miss Penistone in your em- 
ployment at that time?” 

“ I must really ask you in what capacity?” 
rejoined the manager, laughing. “You see, 
we’ve a good many young women employed 
about a house of this size, and chambermaids 
and kitchenmaids are all young ladies now.” 

“ The Miss Penistone I am inquiring about 
was in the bar or office.” 

“Yes, I can tell you that. I’ll just look at 
the books, but I’m pretty sure I never had any- 
body of that name employed here. No, it’s as 
I thought; there was no Miss Penistone en- 
gaged in the bar at the time.” 

“Yon couldn’t possibly have been mistaken, 
I suppose?” said the bookmaker. 

“No; and if my memory played me false, 
this would keep me straight. You see, when 
I found myself subpcenaed as a witness for the 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 1G3 

prisoner, and discovered what was the line of 
defence, I naturally wished to give all the assist- 
ance in my power. Personally I knew nothing 
about him ; but it was quite clear that if Mr. 
Craft dined in my house on the lYth, at seven 
o’clock, he couldn’t have committed the rob- 
bery with which he was charged on the same 
afternoon; and that was a point which of 
course my people could settle, and therefore I 
made a mem. of the names of the waiters em- 
ployed that week, and also of the names of the 
young ladies employed in the bar or office. 
Here are the girls,” and he handed the book 
to Mr. Horwich. 

The latter ran his eye rapidly over the list. 
“ Misses Young, Starr, Jackson, Wray.” 

“They called the waiters,” continued Ed- 
wards, “but they never troubled themselves 
about the young ladies. The case dried up 
altogether at the finish, and the prosecution 
seemed so astounded at the strength of the 
defence that they didn’t care to hear all the 
people they’d subpoenaed. Their case seemed 


164 


A MBMBEB OF TATTERS ALL'S. 


wretchedly weak, and it was said never ought 
to have been brought into court.” 

^‘Well, I’m beat,” at length exclaimed the 
bookmaker. I’ve known Miss Penistone since 
she was a child, and I can swear I caught 
sight of her in the bar that week. It would 
be on the Monday, for I was on my way to 
catch the train to Doncaster, and ran in here 
for a drink. I should have spoken to her, 
only I was pressed for time. Would you mind 
telling me when you wrote this memorandum? 
When were you subpoenaed?” 

‘‘As soon as Mr. Craft was committed for 
trial.” 

“ That would be some days after the Don- 
caster week?” 

“Yes, probably a fortnight; but bear in 
mind, out of these four young ladies Miss 
Young and Miss Starr are the only two who 
were with me then.” 

“And they both swear that they’ve never 
known a Miss Penistone in the bar or out of it. 
I know, because IVe asked them; and I know 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALUS, 


165 


they’re lying because my eyesight’s perfectly 
good and I saw her.” 

‘‘Come, come, Mr. Horwich,” replied Ed- 
wards, “this is not quite fair. I don’t know 
what your object can be in making this in- 
quiry, but I certainly see no object they can 
have in not telling the truth.” 

The bookmaker made no reply, but a sort of 
blind instinct made him cling to the belief that 
he was on the very verge of the discovery he 
desired. And yet how was he to proceed next? 
He remained for a minute lost in thought, and 
then said : 

“That your young ladies don’t always speak 
the truth, Mr. Edwards, I’ll just prove to you. 
You say positively, and your memorandum 
confirms it, that those were the four girls who 
did the work of the bar and office that week. 
Now Miss Starr told me herself that, in conse- 
quence of being in ill health, she went home 
for change of air, and was there during that 
time.” 

“Good heavens!” exclaimed the manager. 


166 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALU8. 

starting to his feet, I neyer thought of it till 
this moment.. I remember she complained of 
being unwell, and asked if I' would mind her 
cousin taking her place for a few days, so that 
she might get a little rest and change of air.-’ 

‘‘Ah!” said Mr. Horwich, “and that cousin’^ 
name was ” 

“Ah! I am afraid I can’t recollect, but I 
don’t somehow think it was Penistone.” 

It was discouraging, provoking, but Mr. 
Horwich was perfectly sure now that he was 
on the right track. But he still didn’t see 
quite how he was to prove his point. Whether 
he could discover her reason for being at the 
“Falcon” had yet to be seen, but obviously the 
first thing to be quite clear about was that she 
was there. So far both she and her companions 
were evidently determined to deny that fact, to 
commence with. 

“No chance of your remembering the name?” 
he remarked at last. 

“I am afraid not,” replied the manager. 
And now I think it over I am not quite sure that 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’ 8. 


167 


I ever knew it. Miss rStarr had been with me 
something like three years then, and I placed 
perfect confidence in her. I was quite willing 
to give her a few days’ holiday, and don’t 
think I even bothered myself about the name 
of the girl who took her place, but I do recol- 
lect clearly that she said it Was her cousin. 
But we’ll very soon settle the thing.” And 
having rung the bell, he desired the servant 
who answered it to ask Miss Starr to step into 
his room. That young lady speedily appeared, 
and no sooner saw that Mr. Horwich was 
closeted with her master than she knew that 
Lizzie’s secret could be kept no longer. Mr. 
Edwards at once asked her what was the name 
of the cousin who had taken her place when 
she had been ill four years ago. If the book- 
maker had ever known that Harriet Starr was 
a cousin of Lizzie’s, it had entirely escaped his 
memory. She was no relation of his, and one 
can hardly be expected to remember the cousins 
of nieces and nephews ; Sut Harriet had known 
him very well by sight for some years, and had 


168 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 


even occasionally exchanged a few words with 
him, though she had never referred to her 
relationship with Lizzie. If only her master 
had asked if it was a Miss Penistone that had 
taken her place at that time, she was prepared 
to deny it, saying as a salve to her conscience 
that Lizzie’s real name, as she honestly sup- 
posed, was Mrs. Clover. But her cousin. She 
saw that this inquiry was being vigorously 
pushed, and, though sorely against her will, 
quickly came to the conclusion that she had 
better tell the truth at once, than have it 
wormed out of her. With an angry glance at 
Mr. Horwich, whom in her heart she stigma- 
tized as a spiteful old wretch, she I’eplied, 
“Miss Clover, sir.” 

“ Thank you. That’s all you want to know, 
I suppose?” said Edwards. 

“ And why on earth couldn’t you tell me so 
at once,” exclaimed the bookmaker angrily, 
addressing Miss Starr, “ instead of making all 
this fuss about it?” 

“You asked me whether Miss Penistone was 


A MEMBJEli OF TATTERS ALL' S. 16 $ 

in the bar at that time/’ replied the thoroughly 
irate Harriet. “You know that was not my 
cousin’s real name, and I was not hound to 
recognize her under her theatrical one. You’re 
her uncle, and know her by sight, and could 
see for yourself. For all I can tell, she might 
not wish it known that she had tried a situa- 
tion not in her own line. She knew I was not 
well, and it wasn’t likely, that I was going to 
acknowledge her kindness in taking my place 
by occasioning her any annoyance. ” 

“That will do. Miss Starr,” replied the man- 
ager, with an amused smile at the bookmaker’s 
face, who, though he had got hold of what he 
wanted to know, looked decidedly conscious of 
having got hold of a stinging-nettle at the same 
time. 

“I feel really sorry for Lizzie. I’m sure I 
shouldn’t like an inquisitive uncle prying into 
all my little affairs.” 

“No,” retorted the bookmaker dryly, as the 
incensed young lady flounced out of the room, 
“I don’t think we should suit.” 


170 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 


“I can’t make out what on earth you’re 
driving at,” remarked Mr. Edwards. 

“Nor, to tell you the truth, do I quite know 
myself,” rejoined Mr. Horwich. 

UX .HNTTAHO 


.;iiSA i'v:A;;rv ■■ 


rfifdi!/ ori) c. rtA 

.>l yiiiuj^fr ‘»:i'>rq oifi Vo 
(I‘)j;r(t .r^ 'iylil /li fn:),; w' A 

i!-.! s-h .■•.'.I',;'' vV,- .iiliff io f. ■ il’ ^iv.urf yY/ ia 

ii; fi- vrrrn -If ■iy SI'"" ’ T 

h'r. ‘V/ iK'H'T V/ ] .‘ur 

‘Df^n ‘ ^'r ,fi j : ..->5 • • ' . * 

.’l *9 ! : ' r ' ' 0 ' f i ' " H - • ' T; > i 1 ' i*}r. t’-A a i f; i * 

• - ■ - ■ -Ml'.',: . 

-f 'hro 

A '. «-, -■• ;. ; f". ; 1.;', i • : f ' [ V'}' ^ 

•• i :* / s ’H"/ ‘ ■' ’*(? 

■ : •. - ■.- v; .-■ 

. .. . , M 

' ’Mi'-v; l: ; -i .rr/v.,i , 

:rl'i 



ai'noT ili’ijw r^' tnifv/ Ji!') oibuif j' tji-j 
■ . .gb'jijv/ l.»M . if/T f> .'>f-ji;fn ri '’,;f;. ^ni'^hv 

■WO03I Oliup I ofj (fflU ii kIt jio-/ iivt of .•fij'/'- 

CHAPTEE XII. 

CHANTAGE. 

Although a leading character, the villain 
of the piece usually keeps himself considerably 
in the background, and in like fashion, much 
as we have heard of him, we have so far seen 
very little of Howden Craft. He arrived at 
Doncaster, as he had written Miss Elton word 
he should, on the Thursday afternoon, and, after 
having established himself at the “Eeindeer,” 
proceeded to carry out his programme, and 
walked out to St. Katherine’s. Old Giggles- 
wick opened the door for him and informed 
him that his mistress was at Haneton, but she 
had ordered the carriage to be sent for her, 
and he expected her now at any moment. 
“ Wouldn’t Mr. Howden step in and wait? At 

all events he would take something after his 
171 


172 A 3IEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 

walk? Miss Emily was to have stayed till 
Saturday,” continued the butler, “hut she's 
changed her mind, as young ladies will, you 
know, sir.” 

Not a word of this was lost upon Howden 
Craft, and nobody could have more quickly 
seen the vantage ground it placed him on. 
Not only was it a tacit approval of himself, 
which was very gratifying to a man very 
earnest in his intention to marry her, but fur- 
ther she was compromising herself in the eyes 
of the neighborhood. That she should cut short 
her visit at Haneton and hurry home on find- 
ing that he was at Doncaster, would certainly 
have provoked comment if she had announced 
the cause of her departure, and she certainly 
would be bound to make some excuse for it. 
The Gunnersleys and their friends could only 
put one interpretation upon it. They could 
only think that there was something more than 
a cousinly feeling between them, and if the 
Haneton people did not already know that she 
had left them for the purpose of receiving him- 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 173 

self, he half made up his mind that not only 
they, but all Doncaster, should be speedily in- 
formed of the fact. It was a gain to him all 
round ; it closed the mouth of his bitter enemy, 
the colonel ; it would keep other pretenders at 
a distance, while it was giving him decided 
encouragement to prosecute his own suit. If 
he was not a fool, neither was he the man to 
hide his light under a bushel. He was not a 
hadlooking fellow, and, without being con- 
ceited, had no cause to despair of finding favor 
in any girl’s eyes, and yet in spite of all this 
he could not hut perceive vrhen Emily arrived 
that, though her greeting was kind, it was 
also constrained. It was easy of explanation. 
Miss Elton had recognized all this as well as 
himself, and she was chafing at the thought 
that the impulsiveness of her nature should 
have placed her in so false a position. A 
spirited, hot-tempered young woman, she had 
flamed out and hurled her indignant protest 
against what she thought Colonel Gunner- 
sley’s gross injustice to her kinsman. How- 


l.fi A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S.. 

den’s ill-timed visit had done the rest, and she 
was conscious that her conduct had been cruelly 
misconstrued. There never had beon any feel- 
ing of that nature between them, and the 
awkwardness his visit occasioned made her. 
wish that he had never come. She was re- 
solved to be loyal to her cousin, and that there 
should be always a warm welcome for him at 
St. Katherine’s, but she did hope his stay at 
Doncaster would be short. 

Emily Elton was no girl in her teens, but a 
young woman with a fair knowledge of the 
world and its ways. If she had lived rather 
out of it of late years, when she first came out 
she had been at all the revels in the county and 
seen three London seasons besides; still she 
didn’t quite understand Howden Craft. That 
gentleman was most assiduous in his atten- 
tions. She could not refuse to walk or drive 
with her cousin when he pressed it, and the 
consequence was they were much about to- 
gether. It was of course chance, but it was 
strange how often they made their appearance 


175 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S: 

. in Doncastel*, and before a week was over it was 
not only matter of comment, biit the trades- 
people and other idlers of the sleepy little town, 
as they lounged at their doors, opined a match 
would come of it. The gossip of a country town 
soon spread through its neighborhood, and that 
Miss Elton was to marry Howden Craft was 
soon quite a recognized thing. That gentle- 
man, indeed, was more than once or twice con- 
gratulated on the engagement, which he always 
disclaimed with a pleased smile and a shake 
of the head, and some such remark as, “Pooh! 
nonsense, my good fellow, weddings don’t fol- 
low funerals quite so quick as that, you know,” 
which always convinced the speaker that the 
story was quite true, although he was perhaps 
a little premature in his felicitations. To Miss 
Elton his conduct was perfect : his manner was 
deferential in the extreme. He gave her to 
understand that her friendship was the thing 
he valued most in this world; that, like her- 
self, he stood very much alone, and that it was 
a gi'eat stay and comfort to him that one of 


1^6 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALVS. 

his kin held that hideous charge a base 
calumny ; that, his business in Doncaster 
finished, it would be months before she saw 
him again ; but he did not go, nor was it pos- 
sible to make out what this business was. 
That the two were engaged, and that nothing 
but the recent death of Mr. Elton prevented its 
being publicly announced, was the firm belief 
of all Doncaster and its neighborhood. Once, 
at a shop where Emily was well known, the 
mistress of the establishment ventured her 
congratulations; but the indignation with 
which they were received, and the blunt decla- 
ration that there was not the slightest cause for 
them, if it did not convince the milliner that 
the rumor was false, caused her to remark 
that ‘‘Miss Elton, like her father, had a fine 
spirit of her own.” 

So annoyed was Emily by this last incident 
that she spoke to her cousin on the subject — 
said that such a rumor must be put a stop to, 
and that it was quite necessary that one or the 
other of them should leave the neighborhood 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. V21 

without delay. Far from making the mistake 
into which a less clever man might have fallen, 
of pressing her at once to convert the rumor 
into fact, Howden replied quietly, “Don’t dis- 
turb yourself about such nonsense, Emily. In 
virtue of your fortune you will always be as- 
signed to somebody till your marriage, as well 
me as another; besides, in forty-eight hours 
or so I shall be gone.” But he did not go. 
That business seemed to partake of the char- 
acter of Penelope’s web. How much longer 
Howden Craft might have lingered within the 
hospitable walls of the “ Eeindeer” it is impos- 
sible to say, but the post brought a letter one 
morning which caused a frown on his brow, 
and a malediction from between his teeth, and 
which, after a quarter of an hour’s thought, 
resulted in an abrupt demand for his bill, and, 
without even bidding his cousin good-by, 
Howden departed by the very next train to 
London. No sooner was he comfortably seated 
than he drew from his pocket the letter which 

had caused such a sudden change in his pro- 
13 


176 A MEMBER OF TATTER8ALVS: 

gramme. It was, very brief^ and mysterious 
as a Eunic inscription to the uninitiated; It 
ran as follows; 

“DearH. C.: ct. 

“Very glad indeed to hear you are doing so 
well since your return. Quite a big thing you 
have got hold of from all accounts, but I al- 
v.^ays said you were a clever young man. I’m 
not one to spoil sport, you .know, but don’t 
forget I must have my little ‘perks. ^ ~ , 

“Yours, 

“D. A.” 

A contemptuous smile curled Howden Craft’s 
lip as he read it. “The old idiot!” he mur- 
mured, “ and does he know me no better than 
that? To think that he could frighten me! 
We have been mixed up in one or two awk- 
ward things together, and those who know 
him naturally think that shallow-pated drivel- 
ler clever. Ha! my friend David, because 
you squeeze as you list the luckless cowards 
who fall into your clutches, you think that all 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 179 

mankind are curs. You make a little mistake, 
We shall have a maiivais quart d'heure, but, 
my friend, it will be for you, not me.” 

It v^as in no very amiable frame of mind 
that Ho V7den Craft started to seek an interview 
with Mr. Abednego, He was oxaeperated at 
that worthy presuming to interfere with his 
schemes, and necessitating his having to leave 
Doncaster just at that moment. Things there 
were going well for him, and exactly aj he 
would wish them, and every day he stayed 
there added strength to the rumor which 
Emily Elton’s imprudence had originally set on 
foot, and v/hich he had so assiduously extended, 
on every opportunity. He stood in no awe 
of Mr. Abednego, and could just as easily have 
said by post what he had come all the v/ay 
from Yorkshire to say in person; but it was a 
maxim with Howden in all awkward transact 
tions that pen and paper were best avoided. 
Mr. Abednego lived in Bolt Court, Fleet Street, 
and if he had ever heard of the sage who pre- 
ceded him in that locality, would, have held 


180 


*4 MEMBER OF TATTERSALE S. 


him in small esteem, as a man who, though 
he might make books, did not understand the 
making of money which, according to Mr. 
Abednego’s simple creed, was the sole end of 
life. He was no more particular whose honey 
he added to his store than that atrocious bri- 
gand, the bee. Indeed, had he ever considered 
it, he would much have admired that hypo- 
critical insect, who, under the character of 
honest industry, pursues its career of larceny. 
Mr. Abednego’s system was merely a higher 
development of the “great Mr. Wild’s,” that 
no one should rob without his shaidng in the 
proceeds, and by dexterous and diligent appli- 
cation of this rule he had so far thriven and 
waxed rich. 

Howden was no stranger to the ways of the 
house, and no sooner was his card sent in than 
he was at once admitted. The money-lender 
received him in a room on the first floor, which 
seemed to be a mixture of study and smoking- 
room. A very business-like looking table oc- 
cupied the centre, plentifully strewn with 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’S. 181 

papers. There was a comfortable armchair on 
each side of the fireplace; one or two spider 
tables were scattered about, decorated with open 
boxes of cigars; there was a bookcase in one 
corner, the lower shelf of which was furnished 
principally with wine-glasses and long-necked 
bottles. Above were a few hooks, consisting 
chiefly of racing calendars, a “Peerage,” 
“Burke’s Landed Gentry,” and several musty- 
looking ledgers, while seated at the table was 
a big, stout man with a' velvet smoking-cap on 
his head, the presiding genius of the place. 

He rose at the entrance of his visitor, and, 
laying down his cigar, said : “ It’s a long time 
since we met, Mr. Craft. Very glad. Indeed, 
to see you looking so well, sir.” 

“Yes, thank you,” replied the other, with a 
blandness that gave little indication of the real 
feelings that possessed him. “ I’ve got home 
again, at last.” 

“ Quite right, sir. And now you’ll be set- 
tling down this side, you’ll have to get a small 
stud together again; we can’t spare good 


182 A MEMBERVOF TATTERS ALL' S. 

sportsmen like yourself in these times, and I 
hope to see you give the Ring another dOse of 
‘Lady Teazle’ before next season’s over.” 

‘LA.nd I dare say,” said Howden contemjjtu- 
ously, “you’re quite prepared with a half-a- 
dozen screws to start me. ” -lA. . 

“ I certainly know where to lay my hands 
on two or three useful horses — not very high- 
class, perhaps, hut horses, properly placed, that 
there’s a good deal of money to be made 
over. ” 

“That’ll do,” said Howden; “that’s enough 
of this fooling. I’d rather trust my own .judg- 
ment than yours when it comes to that ; but it 
wasn’t to sell me race-horses, nor the hope of 
standing any gain on another ‘Lady Teazle,’ 
that made you write to me. What do you mean 
by this?” he continued, drawing Abednego’s 

note from his pocket, “ and what the do 

you mean by your ‘little perks’?” 

“Dear, dear,” rejoined the money-lender, 
smiling blandly around him, and addressing an 
imaginary audience, “young men will have 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 


183 


their little jokes; they’re always poking their 
fun at old Abdenego.” ■ • no/ ooe v 'xp 

“There’s very, little joking about me;; I 
should have thought you knew me better by 
this time than to have thought so. ” 

“Well, well, my dear boy, what’s the use 
of calling things by ugly names? Let me put 
it in this way. There’s a young man I know 
who is just about to make a very wealthy 
marriage^ and it was my good fortune to do 
this young fellow a, very great service a few 
years ago ; in fact, to save him from the conse- 
quence of a very great mistake he made. We 
all make mistakes when we’re young.” ^ 

“Get on^” said Howden impatiently. 

“Well, you’d naturally think that young 
man on the eve of his marriage would come to 
his old benefactor, to whom he owed all this, 
and say to him: ‘My dear old friend, all this 
happiness is due to you. I must reverse the 
usual order of things, and, instead of your 
giving me one, I want to make you a hand- 
some wedding-present.’ ” And Mr. Abednego 


184 A OF TATTFSSALL'S. 

paused in anticipation of the result of his 
speech. 

“Gro on,” said Howden cui'tly. 

“ I thank him gratefully, hut tell him that 
I am a poor man, and that it would be more 
useful to me if his generosity took the form of 
a check, when the only question with that 
young man would he naturally what he should 
fill it up for.” 

“What’s your price?” said Howden. 

“What a man of business you are, Mr. 
Craft !” said the money-lender, in much exul- 
tation in obtaining his chantage so readily. 
“ Five thousand a year is a nice thing to come 
into, and I congratulate you, sir, with all my 
heart. Considering what a friend I’ve been to 
you, and the trouble I’ve had in arranging 
everything, I think a year’s income would be 
about fair.” 

“You mean that you demand five thousand 
pounds.” 

“You shall give me a bill at six months for 
that amount the week before the wedding, and 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’ 8. 186 

that’ll make all things quite smooth and com- 
fortable between us,” rejoined Abednegoi 

“ And suppose I decline to give you a shil- 
ling?” 

“ Then I’m afraid this wedding won’t take 
place.” 

“You mean you will prevent it?” 

“I think,” replied the money-lender, “that 
a rather awkward incident in your past life 
might leak out, and will probably break- off the 
match.” 

“ In short, five thousand is the price of your 
silence,” said Howden. “Well, I always play 
hold with a blackguard like you. I’ll not part 
with a cent. I’ll take a maxim out of your 
own hook — one I heard from your own lips : 
‘There’s no friend you can trust like the one 
round whose neck you can put a rope. ’ I’ll not 
deny that it may be in your power to stop this 
marriage, but to do it you must divulge our 
secret. That threatens no personal danger of 
any kind to me, but it means penal servitude 
to you and all the others concerned in it, and 


186 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 


I’ll take very good care that you, at all events, 
get your share.” 

<T’ 

And in spite of Mr. Abednego’s piteous en- 
treaties that he would stop and talk it over, 
Howden Craft left the room without another 
word. 

“A clever young man,” murmured the 
money-lender, as the street door hanged behind 
hiis visitor ; “ almost too clever to last, perhaps. 

i ) ^ > • I ^ ' 

What a partner he would be! With a partner 
of his nerve I could do anything. But he’s 
wrong not to try and deal with me; I’d have 
taken less and I can be nasty. ” 


■ ! r 


^.0 K c)8r 

--f?Tfl:^ V"- ifi v' f- .it'y ^ t" =' ^' ■' ' /'lOV 0/l(VT If T 

' 'i;n>7 

,K .m,,,|: :■ . CHAPTEE XIIL ,,, , • ,,„, 

.■1' /.■ :! i-THE OLD iSiEKU: 

■f' ; ' ■ - ■ . ■;> i ■'f 

Cis 1 ’ladbury was not unmindful of his re- 
solvo. and as soon as he got back to Norwich 

’()' ,i.j' 1.'-. ... 

would have lost no time in putting it into ex- 
ecution ; but the leave-season had come to an 
end, and permission for two or three days’ ab- 
sence was no longer easy to obtain. To make 
Welside’s acquaintance was the first thing to 
he done, and that it was hopeless to expect to 
do in Norwich. Welside was a confirmed Lon- 
doner, and not much given to straying from 
the Metropolitan area out of the racing season. 
As soon as he could get to London there would 
be no difficulty about it. There were plenty of 
neutral friends who, at a hint from Cis, would 
bring about a meeting between them. Flad- 
bury’s impatience at the delay was further in- 
creased by letters from Haneton, from which he 

learned that Craft still lingered on at Doncas- 
187 


188 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’ S. 

ter, and the report that he was engaged to Miss 
Elton was universally credited by the neighbor- 
hood. From w'hat he had seen himself Cis 
saw no reason to doubt it, but she should at 
all events know the truth about her fiance, if 
he could only discover it, for by this time he 
was as thoroughly impressed by Howden Craft’s 
guilt as either Horwich or Gunnersley. How- 
ever, he managed to escape from Norwich for 
a couple of days after a little, and was promptly 
asked to meet Welside at lunch the day after 
his arrival in town. Over the cigar in the 
smoking-room, which inevitably follows a male 
entertainment of this kind, Cis touched upon 
the trial, and informed Welside that he had 
not only known Mr. Elton well, but had stayed 
at his house for that very Doncaster meeting, 
“Ah, it was a Doncaster meeting, and no 
mistake. By Jove, I don’t think this child 
ever had such a good time on a race-course be- 
fore or since. And, as good-luck would have 
it, 1 had to go back to town after I had seen 
the Leger.” 


A Mt:MBER OF TATTERS ALL’S 189 

“Why?” saM Cis. “The last two dayswere 
as good as the. others.” 

“I fancy they were to most people,” said 
Welside,'" “but Fletcher had a nailing good 
thing for the Portland Plate on the Thursday, 
and if I had been there' I should have dropped 
a lot of money over that. All the stable did, 
and I should have been sure to be up to my 
eyes in the swim.” 

It was clear to Cis Fladbury that his com- 
panion was by no means a reserved man, but 
disposed, after the manner of most of us, to con- 
verse freely about himself and his own doings. 
“By no means a gifted young man,”' ^ he 
thought, “ but with sufficient common sense to 
keep him out of any serious scrape.” His dis- 
course was of horses. Doctor Johnson might 
have said, and flavored with the argot of the 
race-coui'se ; but for all that it was the talk of a 
gentleman, and unembellished by those tales of 
chicanery and fraud so prolific in the imagina- 
tion of the low-class turfite. 

“ By-the-bye’, you were present,” said Cis, 


190 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 

“at the celebrated dinner which saved Craft 
on that occasion?” 

Welside nodded assent. 

“You knew Craft, of course?” 

“ By sight only, just as I knew Mr. Abed- 
nego. I knew the latter was a money-lender, 
though I never had dealings with him. 
Fletcher I was rather thick with. He would 
always give me a Mnt when he fancied any of 
the horses under his' management. Yes, it was 
a queer business, that dinner; just as well for 
Craft it came ofif, though. The lawyers, I be- 
lieve, said there was no case against him, hut 
highway robbery is a pretty mean thing to he 
accused of.” 

Fladhury’s hopes sank. It was as he had 
thought all along. Welside’s testimony was 
unimpeachable ; there was no fencing over it 
whatever. He spoke of this dinner in the open, 
careless way men do allude to such things. He 
laughed, as he replied : 

“ Fletcher must be a good loser. I have read 
of the grim jest of the famous French bon 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALVS. 191 

vivant who invited his friends to dine and 
attend his funeral, but one don’t often cele- 
brate a severe dressing in that fashion.” 

“Yes, you’re right, Fletcher is a good loser, 
bTit for all that he never contemplated rejoicing 
over a run against him in that way. He orig- 
inally asked me and Brooklyn to dine with him 
at his lodgings on the Thursday night in Don- 
caster, in honor of the great coup he expected to 
make in the Portland Plate ; but it came off the 
wrong way, and they dropped so much money 
over it that they both returned to town sooner 
than they had intended.” 

Fladbury became at once keenly interested. 
He felt he was about to hear the true story of 
that alibi, and there could be no doubt that 
Welside was a truthful narrator to the best of 
his ability. 

“ They returned then on the Thursday night?” 
he remarked carelessly. 

“I don’t know, I’m sure; my memory is apt 
to get a little hazy, but I know it was the day 
before the dinner at the ‘Falcon.’ ” 


192 A MEMB.^R OF TATTERS ALL’ S. 

“Well, what day was that?” said Cis, 
laughing. 

“Oh, I can’t recollect now. If it hadn’t 
been for a bit of luck, I shouldn’t have been 
able to do that poor beggar. Craft, a good turn, 
and swear to it in the box. You see, two or 
three weeks had taken place before this robbery 
business came out, and one was called upon to 
recollect it. My memory, as I have said is not 
very good, and then I’d drunk a lot of cham- 
pagne ; you know the sort of thing, when you 
forget where one day ended and another 
began.” 

“Exactly,” said Cis, laughing. “When 
memory becomes a soft haze.” 

“That’s it,” said the other; “quite a poeti- 
cal way of putting it.” 

“But, may I ask,” said Cis, “what was the 
bit of luck that enabled you to swear to the 
date of that dinner party?” 

“ Certainly. I’d put the menu in my pocket, 
one does sometimes, and thrown it on the sit- 
ting-room table when I came home, and my 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’ 3. 193 

servant had stuck it in the card-rack which 
hangs above the mantelpiece. There it was, 
you know, ‘Falcon Hotel,’ September so and 
so, you know.” 

Fladbury was nonplussed. A straightfor- 
ward man, although his memory might be 
none of the best, became an unimpeachable wit- 
ness when he gave evidence from notes made 
at the time, and that was what this menu 
amounted to. There was no getting away 
from it; it was of no use arguing that the 
notes of a drunken man were no more to be 
relied upon than his memory, that menu was 
dated by somebody connected with the hotel, 
who it was idle to suppose had filled it in 
incorrectly. No, Grunnersley, Horwich, and 
himself might remain fixed in their unbelief ; 
but they would never now, he thought, be able 
to justify their scepticism. 

“I have an old friend,” he said at length, 
“a London man, who dines out a great deal, 
and never omits to put the menu in his pocket ; 

perhaps you’re like him.” 

13 * 


104 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL’ S. 

“Not at all,” returned the other. i“I: don’t 
say I’ve never done it before, but I am certainly 
not in the habit of doing it. There was some 
talk, I think, about the superiority of cooking 
at tho Falcon, ’ and some one-*-Mr. Abednego, 
I rathei* think — induced me to pocket the meim, 
saying: ‘The next time you want to give a din- 
ner at your club, just try if your cook can beat 
that.’” 

“ I don’t suppose you’ve got that menu now?” 
said Cis; “'not likely.” 

“Blest if I know,” rejoined Welside. “But 
why? You don’t want to see it, do you?” 

“Well, I should rather like to see Fletcher’s 
idea of a loser’s dinner; there don’t seem to be 
much of the anchorite’s pulse and spring water 
about it, according to your account.” 

“It’s just possible I didn’t destroy it,” said 
Welside, “and if I can find it I’ll send it to 
you.” 

“Thanks. Twelfth Lancers, Norwich, will 
always find me.” And then the more con- 
genial topic of the weights for the City and 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'^. 195 

Suburban came up for discussion, and shortly 
afterward the party broke up. 

When Cis got back to his regiment and re- 
flected over what had' come of making Wel- 
side’s acquaintance, he was bound to confess 
very little. It was not very likely that gentle- 
man would find the card of a well-nigh for- 
gotten dinner, and even if he did it would only 
go to corroborate the truth of that alibi. Who 
of us could recollect the date or particulars of a 
feast that had taken place some few years be- 
fore, unless, like the Waterloo banquet, it was 
in commemoration of some great event? To fix 
the thereabouts of this dinner at the “ Falcon” 
was very easy, but the exact date had hitherto 
been supposed to depend in the main on the tes- 
timony of Messrs. Fletcher, Brooklyn, Welside 
and Abednego. Should this menu ever reacli 
him, Cis felt it could be only another silent 
witness for the defence. In a day or two he 
received a few lines from Welside, enclosing 
him the carte of that memorable evening. As 
he anticipated, it confirmed the writer’s story, 


106 A MEMBER OF TATTERSA^LL' S. 

and, dogged though he still was in his belief, 
Cis felt that the mystery was beyond his pen- 
etration. Cis saw no hope for it. “ That scoun- 
drel will succeed,” he said to himself; “he’s a 
robber and a murderer, but he’ll marry the 
nicest girl in England, spend her projjerty, and 
probably ill-treat her, and I shall have to look 
on. What right have I to interfere in the life 
of Mrs. Howden Craft? She’s a clever woman 
Mrs. Gunnersley, but she’s mistaken this time. 
I was in the field too late. Emily Elton was 
wooed and won while I, idiot that I am, was 
thinking about it.” 

Now Captain Fladbury had no earthly right 
to speak in this disparaging way of his rival ; 
but that’s just where it was, Howden Craft 
v/as his rival, and you naight just as well ex- 
pect one man to speak honestly of another, 
under those circumstances, as to win if you 
play vGth a card sharper. The most liberal, 
honest, straightforward man, while willingly 
acknowledging all the good points of his oppo- 
nent, cannot refrain from a disparaging “ but” 


A ME?,1BER OF TATTERSALL'S. 107 

in liis summing up. At the commmencement 
of this history, Cis quite believed in Craft's in- 
nocence, and derided Mr. Horwich for being of 
an opposite opinion, and now, upon no further 
testimony than that Mr. Abednego is held in 
slight esteem by the police, he is quite con- 
vinced that Craft is a blood-stained wretch. 
Love may be blind, but it’s astonishing how 
open-eyed a lover is to the demerits of his 
rival. 

Two or three days afterward, Cis receivetl 
a letter from Mr. Horwich of a most jubilant 
description, in which the bookmaker declared 
that he had all but unravelled the mystery. 

“Never fear,” he said, “but what I'll exidain 
the whole hanky-panky business to you before 
long. The whole bag of tricks is as good as in 
my pocket. You’ve done your best to help me. 
Captain Fladbui’y, and I thank you, but I am 
strong enough now to play my hand alone, and 
you have no object in hunting down Craft. I 
have. I have the cruel wrong done to one of 
my own flesh and blood to settle with him for. 


198 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 

If I could, hang him I would; but after what 
I heard in Yorkshire, I have no wish to make 
him repair the wrong he has done, as I first 
intended. I’ll hunt him down nevertheless; 
if he dares to stay in England, all his friends 
shall know that he escaped the hulk by trick 
and perjury. I’ll never leave him, and as 
for marrying my niece, the one thing I am 
grateful to him for is that he didn’t make her 
an honest woman. As his wife she would have 
been compelled to share his fortunes. As it is, 
if I can help it, she shall never see him again. 
Thanking you once more, sir, for the kind as- 
sistance you have given me, 

“lam, etc., 

“Thom.4S Horwich.” 

The bookmaker had no idea that Cis Fladbury 
was as keenly interested in the moral convic- 
tion of Howden Craft as himself ; it might be 
said more so. It so happened they had never 
met since that Nottingham meeting at the end 
of the preceding year. The racing season had 


A MEMBER OF TATTEREALL' B. 190 

begun again, but various engageijients, mili- 
tary and otherwise, had prevented Cis from 
attending the early meetings in the Midlands ; 
and though a few letters had passed between 
them, Cis was entirely ignorant of what Mr. 
Horwich had been doing in the Craft case, 
with the exception of the little he had picked 
up at Haneton. The bookmaker’s letter was 
highly provoking. Cis was much interested, 
and would have liked an accurate account of 
all his proceedings, but Mr. Horwich ’s despatch 
simply proclaimed victory, and did not con- 
descend to any details. He would have liked 
to have seen him, but that at present seemed 
hardly feasible. Cis could not get away from 
Norwich, while Mr. Horwich, now immersed 
in the full flood of business, like all his 
brethren, was ubiquitous; so Cis was con- 
strained to console himself with the reflection 
that there was a probability of Howden Craft 
receiving a check in his apparently prosperous 
career. 

Mr. Horwich was fully occupied, and he had 


200 A .VE^WEfi Oj’' tatters A li,L'S. 

scant time to snatch from his professional avo- 
cations for the^investigation of that alibi, hut, 
on the other hand, time was not the object to 
him that it was to Fladbury., ^His vengeance 
upon Howden Craft could wait till his scheme 
was ripe and the hour had come, but for all 
that he seized every opportunity he could spare, 
and clung to the trail as ruthlessly as a tiger 
to that of a wounded deer. A fiesh idea had 
carried him once more to the Falcon Hotel, 
and it was after that visit that be wrote that 
exultant letter to Captain Fladbury. Once 
more had he sought the proprietor’s sanctum, 
and asked him if he might be allowed to see 
the books which contained the record of that 
notorious dinner. Mr. Edwards readily as- 
sented, and while he was looking for the ledger 
in question Mr. Horv.dch said : “ I suppose you 
would have no difficulty in identifying the 
handwriting? I want to know whose hand it 
is in.” 

“I don’t know,” said the manager thought- 
fully; “I wouldn’t be c|uite sure about that. 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 

I shciuld know Miss Starr’s and Miss Young’s, 
because I’m constantly- s^ieing-' theirs. The 
bookmaking is mainly done by thbse two, but 
as for the two girls thht have left, it’s a goodish 
bit since I’ve seen either of their fists. How- 
ever, here’s the place. No, hang me if I can 
tell whose writing it is. It’s not Miss Starr’s 
nor yet Miss Young’s.” 

“But,” said the bookmaker, as he bent over 
his shoulder, “it is Miss Clover’s.” 

“Ah!” said Mr. Edwards, “I never thought 
of taking any particular note at the time. If 
the case had gone on, these girls would have 
been called. Ah ! that’s the girl you have been 
asking about, isn’t it?” 

“Just so,” rejoined Mr. Horwich. “I’m an 
old friend of the family, and a little discussion 
arose at their house the other night. She said 
she had never been in service, and I said I had 
seen her behind the bar, and what did she call 
that? and she just wanted to stick me out I 
hadn’t, that’s all.” 




.1' t~exe o:^ 3^: .;■• M 'Y: Tyd ‘i9Vo aBW 9<m 

i;a!iitYir/: i : . : ■■ -i vi'iiltl «j-5W di 

'"■>■' ->■• ■' •■ ’ ■' 

■ CHAPTER XIV. ' ^ 

lizzie’s confession. , . , 

In the first fiush of his discovery, Mr. Hor- 
wich thought that the key to the whole mys- 
tery of the alibi was in his hands; but in a 
very few minutes his common sense came to 
his aid, and told him that though he might* 
have got a step on his way, he had practically 
learnt nothing much that was of any use to 
him. He had ascertained beyond doubt that 
Lizzie was assisting in the bar of the “Falcon” 
at the time that dinner took place ; that the 
entry of it, with all the wine, etc., in the 
ledger, was in her handwriting; and he knew, 
moreover, that in consequence of her unfortu- 
nate connection with Howden Craft, it was not 
likely she was there without his knowledge or 
consent. From what she had said but a few 

weeks back, it w^as easy to see what his influ- 
303 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 203 

ence was over her still if he chose to exert it, 
and it was likely to have been, if anything, 
even stronger then. What conld have been 
Craft’s object in permitting her to take that 
situation? For Mr. Horwich recollected that 
Craft, in those days, was a gentleman with a 
good deal of swagger and pretension. It '^"as 
beyond 1 him, and at this stage he felt quite as 
baffled as Cis Fladbury. At last he resolved 
to go and have a talk with Lizzie. He had 
seen nothing of her of late, and from the reti- 
c'ence she had maintained at their last meeting 
concerning her engagement at the Falcon 
Hotel, it was not likely that any good would 
come of a talk with her now. He could but 
.,try it. He found Mrs. Clover at home, but it 
was evident, from her constrained greeting, 
that she meant keeping cai'eful guard uix)n her 
tongue. Beating about the bush was not in 
the least in Mr. Horwich’s line, and he very 
soon told her that it was no use denying her 
engagement at the “Falcon;” that her cousin, 
Harriet Starr, had told him herself that her 


204 .4 MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 

cousin had taken her place for a short time 
when she was ill in September. “And she 
promised she wouldn’t,” thought Lizzie. 

“I never did deny being at the ‘Falcon;’ I 
only refused to say anything about it one way 
or the other. If Harriet told you that, you 
can believe it or not, as you like. It’s a mat- 
ter of very little consequence.” 

“I want to know why you went there,” said 
the bookmaker. 

“Goodness! — didn't Harriet tell you that I 
went there to take her place and give her a 
little rest? What more do you want, uncle? 
You don’t want me to make out Harriet a liar, 
do you?” 

“Not at all. I know she’s that,” said the 
bookmaker, angrily, “and a very impudent 
hussy besides. Why did you go there?” 

“For any reason you like to invent,” re- 
turned the girl. “You have been told, and 
you’ll get no other answer from me. Do you 
know Mr. Craft’s address?” 

“No,” said Mr. Horwich, “I don't, and I 


A MEMBER OF TATTERff ALL'S. ji05 

shouldn't give it to you if I did.” And with 
that he snatched up his hat, and made what 
Lizzie described afterward as a tempestuous 
exit. 

Beat as to his next move, Mr. Horwich still 
felt that he had very nearly hit the mark, and, 
after cudgelling his brains for some little time, 
sat down and wrote down an accurate account 
of his investigations to Mr. Dawes. He re- 
ceived a reply from that gentleman almost by 
return of post which rather surprised him. 

“You have solved the whole riddle,” wrote 
the lawyer. “ Had the case proceeded to an 
end, the alibi would probably have crumbled 
to pieces. How many were actually in the 
fraud it is difficult to say, but most likely all 
of them. If you can induce the young lady 
who made that false entry in the ledger to 
confess at whose suggestion it was done, you 
have put your finger upon the chief conspirator. 
You might ask her the question.” 

“ False entry in the ledger !” exclaimed Mr. 
Horwich. “What does he mean? Who on 


iiOO A MEMBER OF TATTERBALL'S. 

earth has said anything about false entries? 
He can’t surely mean that Lizzie’s in it ; and 
if she is, how on earth does he know it?” And 
the bookmaker hastily went on with his letter 
in the hope of being enlightened on this point. 
But there he was doomed to disappointment, 
for the letter concluded in two or three more 
lines almost abruptly. If he had solved the 
whole riddle, Mr. Horwich had certainly no 
more idea of the answer than before. It was 
on receipt of this letter that Mr. Horwich had 
written with such confidence and exultation to 
Cis Fladbury; but the fact was, this was 
merely a bold surmise on the part of Mr. 
Dawes. Cis, in a letter to Colonel Gimnersley, 
had given an account of his talk with Welside 
On the trial, and told how that gentleman had 
been able to refresh an indifferent memory by 
having, fortunately, put the menu of the feast 
in his pocket. Mr. Dawes was a very sharp 
lawj^er. and that alibis have been rehearsed 
was well within legal experience. It flashed 
across him at once that that was what had 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 


207 


taken place. The dinner had all actually 
happened as the witnesses had sworn, but 
not on the date they had assigned to it. 
Whether the night after, or the night before 
the day of the robbery, he couldn’t tell, but he 
felt convinced that was how the fraud had been 
accomplished. The fact of this girl who was 
so intimate with Howden Craft being tem- 
porarily introduced into the bar, he looked 
upon as strong confirmation of his suspicions. 
The Saturday certainly seemed suitable to fix 
for an entertainment designed to commemorate 
the anticipated success of the week, and that 
might have caused the cross-examining coun- 
sel to overlook the fact that all these witnesses 
left Doncaster before the termination of the 
meeting. The case, as Mr. Dawes argued 
with himself, was certainly never pushed home, 
but even as it was, it was a wonder the flaw 
in that alibi was never discovered. That the 
solution of this question also pressed, the at- 
torney was quite aware. He knew that Colonel 
Gunnei'sley and two or three more of Mr. 


208 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL' 3. 


Elton'S old friends were terribly afraid that 
Miss Elton would marry Howden Graft, and if 
what he suspected to be the truth could only be 
elicited with regard to the robbery, all further 
danger of that would be of course at an end. 

Mr. Horwich was a man of decision. He 
didn’t understand it all himself, but he looked 
upon Mr. Dawes as a very sharp lawyer, and 
resolved to do his bidding immediately. He 
found Lizzie at home, and wasted but little 
time in preliminaries, coming to his object 
with a directness most praiseworthy. 

“Now,” he said, “I’m come down here to 
ask you a question or two, which it is as like 
as not you won’t answer. If I was a bit rough 
when I first found out you had no right to 
wear a wedding-ring, you must bear in mind, 
my girl, that I’ve always been as fond of you 
as if you were my own flesh and blood, that 
I’ve been proud of you, and always looked for- 
ward to the time when you'd be a real top 
sawyer before the footlights.” 

* “I know, uncle, you've always been very 


A luEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S^ '209 

kindj’breplied the girl, visibly softening in her 
defiant manner toward him. 

(“ Now, I know that you were in the office at 
the ‘Falcon,’ and I know that the account for 
a certain dinner, at which Mr. Craft was pres- 
ent, wa.s entered you.” 

Shelmade a slight gesture of surprise, t' 
“I’ve seen it, and I know your handwriting. 
What did:you make a false entry for?” 

“And who says I did make a false entry?” 
rejoined the girl. ^ , 

“I do,” replied Mr. Horwich. “You see, 
that dinner made a deal of stir. You know 
Howden Craft was tried for what had happened 
that day, and if it hadn’t been for that dinner, 
it might have gone hard with him.” 

“ Howden tried for anything that took place 
that evening!” exclaimed the girl with such 
astonishment as, if not genuine, did infinite 
credit to her histrionic powers. 

“ He was tried for a robbery that took place 
that afternoon. What’s the use of humbug- 
ging? You must recollect all about it.” 

14 


210 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL S. 


“I don’t, I tell you. I never, £^knew that 
Howden was tried — I never heard it.” 

“ Why, how could you have helped hearing 
of it?” cried Mr. Horwich, ‘‘It was in all the 
papers, and made fuss enough at the time. ” 

“A few days afterward,” replied Lizzie, “I 
began to feel seedy, and Howden sent me into 
the country, to a farm-house he knew of, and 
there I remained till after my boy was born. 
It was quite country, you know, and a paper 
rarely came near the house.” 

“ Howden Craft, as I tell you, was tried for 
a highway robbery committed that very after- 
noon, and acquitted mainly on the ground that 
to have committed that robbery in Yorkshire 
and to have been present at that dinner in 
Aldersgate Street was impossible.” 

“But what had the dinner to do with it?” 
exclaimed Lizzie, utterly failing to comprehend 
the drift of her uncle’s speech. “ Howden tried 
and acquitted! I never heard of it before. 
Acquitted! ah, thank Heaven for that. How 
could they suspect him of such a thing?” 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 


211 


'“Well, they did,” replied the bookmaker, 
doggedly. “And now do you inind telling me 
why you falsified that ledger?” 

Mr. Horwich was persistent in his point, but 
for all that, strange f to say, it had not yet oc- 
curred to him how the ledger had been falsified. 
Had Dawes been within reach, he would have 
questioned him as to what all this was to lead 
to. As it was, he was obeying his directions 
blindfold. 

“You said Howden was acquitted, ani^ this 
charge never can be brought against him 
again. Is it not so?” said Lizzie. 

Mr. Horwich nodded. 

“Well, I promised Howden,” continued the 
girl, “ never to tell about the joke of that din- 
ner, but you seem to have got hold of some 
wrong notion concerning it. You don’t mean 
any harm to Howden, do yoti?” 

“I told you he had been declared innocent,” 
said the bookmaker, Jesuitically. “He can’t 
be accused again.” 

“Well, it all began on a bet,” said Lizzie. 


21;J A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S. 

“Mr. Fletcher had asked some gentlemen to 
dinner, and Howden had made a bet with him 
that pne young man of the pai’ty,, who was 
rather foolish and given to taking more wine 
than was good for him, should be so confused 
before the evening was out that, if the others 
would help him, he would be unable at the 
end of the following week to say what day he 
had dined at the ‘Falcon.’ ” 

A prolonged whistle burst from Mr. Hor- 
wich’s lips, as the ingenuity of the plot shot 
athwart his mind. “I see,” he exclaimed at 
length. “ The date of your entry in the ledger 
was false.’’ 

“Just so; the dinner was dated as having 
occurred on the 17th, while in reality it took 
place on the 16th, the evening before.” 

“Ah, I understands all now,” said Mi*. Hor- 
wich. “But, Lizzie, my dear, I am very 
much afraid Howden Craft is a bad lot, and it 
would be best for you never to see him again. 
Remember, he has been in England now 
some months, and he’s made no elforts to find 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL't. 


213 


you all this time, and,=^did he wish’* it; he 
hhows' very well how to set about it.” 

The girf made no reply. She was cruelly 
woiinded'by the contemptuous indifference of 
her lover. She knew what her uncle said was 
true, and that Howden Craft would have had 
very little^ difficulty in discovering where she 
was living had he been so iiiinded. She felt 
that he had left her for good, and that if ever 
they met again it would be too surely as 

strangers. " ‘ 

. 1 ' 

v-i) '-i ’'iti' < V> ■iil'l' 

; 11 

: r<t; i) .V . : I'i-t nlf : i ' ' v. 

• ■.( ; ■'r’’'” ' 

'' ^ 

nti<{ ^ ' . ' . . ]t 

'.r -- 

fl- f - ' ■ , .-nM. . ■ y ■ 


' A 


. ■ ';\(3 k 

-:.‘ >j ■■■/ -•• h.rij.iv/ ji -.Tt 

CHAPTER XV. . - 

THE COUNCIL OF THBEE. 

Mr. Horavich’s admiration of the attorney’s 
sagacity knew no bounds. “ How did he do 
it?” he murmured. “There he sits in that 
office of his at Doncaster, and ferrets the whole 
thing out without moving. W onderful fellow, 
Dawes; uncommon sharp of him to find out 
that trick about the dates.” As we know, Mr. 
Dawes had done nothing of the sort. He had 
made a shrewd guess and it had turned out 
right, that Avas all, hut the bookmaker Avas 
quite convinced that Dawes knew what the re- 
sult of his questioning Lizzie Penistone Avould 
be. Mr. Horwich’s first impulse was Avhat 
he termed “ have it out Avith Craft at once ; ” 
but, in the first place, he didn’t knoAV Avhere 

that gentleman was exactly, and, in the sec- 
314 


A 3IE3IBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 215 

ond, he thought it would be as well to ar- 
range the facts he had got at in due legal form, 
and who so fit to do that as the astute Dawes? 
It was clear to Mr. Horwich that it was ab- 
solutely necessary that he should consult the 
lawyer, tell him Miss Clover had confessed to 
the falsification of the date of the dinner, and 
take counsel with him what measures they 
had best take to compel Craft’s immediate 
exile. If the bookmaker had started with the 
intention of forcing Howden to do his niece 
justice, that most assuredly was the last thing 
he wished now. He had not failed to notice 
how sadly weak she was where this man was 
concerned. He had been her lover, betrayed 
her and deserted her, but she clung to him 
still, as women sometimes will. Her uncle had 
seen this all too clearly, and only dreaded lest 
Craft should succeed in once more getting 
Lizzie into his power, and, in spite of the 
shameful way he had behaved to her, Mr. 
Horwich had an uneasy feeling that should 
the two once meet, a few soft words from How- 


216 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 

den’s lying tongue would make the girl as 
much his slave as ever. If he could help it, 
Lizzie should never see Craft again, and to 
that end he desired to force him to leave the 
kingdom; and that, he thought, would be a 
small price to pay for silence regarding that 
terrible scandal of a few years back. He rec- 
ollected a little uneasily Colonel Gunnersley's 
remark that circumstances might compel him 
to reopen the case. “But that’s all nonsense,” 
he thought. “ The hot-tempered remark of an 
angry man. The fellow got clean otf at the 
time, and you can’t really touch him, even if 
you would, on the old charge now.” 

On arrival at Doncaster, Horwich lost no 
time in calling on the attorney, and though 
Mr. Dawes never for one moment allowed that 
it had not all actually been known to him 
before, he rubbed his hands with much satis- 
faction as he listened to the bookmaker’s story. 

“Got him on the hip now, haven’t we?” ex- 
claimed the latter. “And I won’t let the 
beggar hedge a halfpenny. Out of the coun- 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 217 

try he . clears, neck and crop, as soon as ever 
I can find him.” 

“Well,” said the other, “you’ve not far to 
go to do that, for he's staying at the 
‘Reindeer.’” 

‘‘No!” cried Mr. Horwich. “Like his con- 
founded cheek to come swaggering down here, 
about a mile from where he murdered his 
uncle, hut I’ll have him out of that. I’ll 
give him foi'ty-eight hours’ to quit the country, 
or the very boys in the street shall call him 
murderer as he goes by.” 

“My good sir, this won’t do at all,” said the 
attorney. “ This is not at all the way to deal 
with such a clever rascal as we’ve got to fight 
against. We must have our case already 
marshalled in due form, and even then, re- 
member, when we’ve made it as strong as Ave 
can, we are in no position to dictate terms. It 
can only be a compromise at the best. ” 

“Well, I suppose you know best,” rejoined 
Mr. Horwich, “but I get kind of mad when I 
think of that chap. I should like to have 


218 A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 

hunted him f out of the town this very after- 
noon.” 

“Now, Mr. Hoi’wich,” said the attorney, 
speaking somewhat authoritatively, “ you must 
Just be guided by me. I’ll do- everything that 
is necessary, and in three or four days we Shall 
be able to convince Mr. Howden Craft that the 
best he can do will be to retire to America or 
on the Continent. Can you meet Colonel Gun- 
nersley here to-morrow at four?” 

“Yes,” replied Mr. Horwich, “but I don’t 
see much use in it. The Colonel has had his 
shy at the case, and is not likely to busy him- 
self about it again.” 

“You’ll be here, then, at four,” said the law- 
yer, as he nodded good-by. While chafing 
bitterly at what to him appeared a most un- 
necessary delay, the bookmaker returned to his 
old quarters at the “Salutation.” 

Howden Craft’s audacity looked as if it was 
going to be crowned with success. Marriage 
with his v/ealthy cousin he had long looked 
upon as the biggest prize he was likely to 


A'MPMBEKi ;0F 7’A TTEItSALVS, -219 

draw in life’s lottery, and never liadr his pros- 
pects seemed so fair as just now. He was 
aware that the neighborhood had looked some- 
what askance at him when he made his re-» 
appearance ;i‘:)but the bold way in which Miss 
Elton cliampioned his cause, and the rumor 
that he was about to be manned to her, had 
caused several people to reconsider their line cf 
conduct. That old past-and -gone scandal was 
surely laid to rest long ago. It was all non-, 
sense to consider him guilty of a charge of 
which he had been legally proved innocent. 
Miss Elton was a very nice but high-spirited 
girl, and very touchy about anything relating 
to l\ev fiaiice. It would be a nuisance to be 
shut out of such a nice house as St. Katherine’s, 
and so Howdeu Craft was gradually slipping 
back into the old place in society round Don- 
caster which he occupied before the September 
meeting of ’87. With Emily, too, he was pro- 
gressing admirably, he thought. If no word 
of love had as yet ever passed his lips, he had 
still so far entangled her, that should she re- 


3-30 A MEMBER OF TXTTERSA^L’S. 

ject him when he spoke, she would certainly 
be held'to have treated him badly] ’* That girls 
do that at times no one. knew better than 
Howden Craft, but another thing he plumed 
himself on was that he had succeeded so far in 
keeping all likely aspirants to her hand at a dis- 
tance. But he was aware that he was skating 
on very thin ice, and Mr. Abednego had given 
him an unpleasant hint that some of his 
former confreres might seek to participate in 
his prosperity. He knew perfectly well he 
could set them at defiance, but then also in a 
moment they could shatter this web he had 
been so industriously Aveaving. He knew it 
was a ticklish time, and had no intention of 
prolonging it a day further than he could help, 
but even had he deemed it wise he could 
hardly speak as yet. That any one was track- 
ing out the story of the alibi he had no idea, 
but that the participators in it, like Mr. Abed- 
uego, were all likely to demand chantage he 
thought probable, and, bold game as he played 
with Mr. Abednego, he was still a little appre- 


221 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL' S. 

hensive^^about what that worthy might do 
next. Under tiiese circumstances he had 
hurried back to , Doncaster: so quickly that few 
people, were ^war^. of his brief absence. It 
might be un:syise, to precipitate matter’s with 
Emily Elton, but assuredly it would be very 
fpplish to let any doubt arise in peoplels minds 
of his being an accepted lover. 

At four the next day Mr. Horwich duly pre- 
sented himself at the attorney’s ofirce. hie 
found Colonel Gunnersley had already arrived 
there. He greeted the bookmaker shortly, and 
said, “I may as well tell you at once, Mr. Hor- 
wich, that the circumstairces of which I spoke 
have, not yet arisen. My hands are still tied. 
Da v/es there will tell you the wdiole story, at 
least as far as he is allowed to tell it.” 

“I have got here,” said the attorney, “the 
notes I made at the time, and also those I have 
made since Mr. Horwich first came to me. 
The first thing that cast suspicion upon How- 
den Craft was a wild exclamation that escaped 
John Elton's lips as he recovered conscious- 


223 A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' S: 

ness. Yon must remember that he ha<i lain 
insensible on the moor for some little time 
before he was found and brought to his home. 
This exclamation "was made before an old 
friend and the medical man who was attend- 
ing him, and was to the effect that Howden 
was an ungrateful scoundrel, and without 
delay Colonel Gunnersley signed a warrant for 
the apprehension of Craft, and urged the police 
to execute it without delay. Mr. Elton made 
but that one exclamation before relapsing once 
more into insensibility. He was for some days 
delirious, and when he came to his right mind 
denied all knowledge of his assailant, and de- 
clared that he could not identify him in the 
least. He was very persistent in his inquiries 
as to what he had said while out of his senses, 
and upon being told of the remark he had 
made about his nephew, said that he had 
talked less foolishness than he might have 
done ; that people when off their heads were apt 
to talk all sorts of balderdash ; that it was queer 
he should connect Howden with the robbery; 


A MEMBER OE TATTERS A EL'S. 223 

but, of course, these two gentlemen had to tell 
the little they could when the warrant was ap- 
jdied for, and in the mean time it also came to 
our knowledge, from a conversation overheard 
in the Grand Stand, that the followers of 
Fletcher’s stable had lost a good deal of money, 
and that a tremendous plunge they liad had 
upon their horse in the Portland Plate, to re- 
cover their losses, had proved a veritable 
Moscow.'’ 

may as well mention,” interposed Colonel 
Gunnersley, if it hadn't been for my 

persistence the case would have been dismissed 
by the magistrates and never sent for trial.” 

^^Just so,” continued the attorne}", ‘^and 
even after that it would never have gone into 
court, if it hadn’t been for an anonymous cor- 
respondent in London, vrho declared himself 
capable of giving most important evidence, 
who declared that he knew the whole scheme 
of the defence, wdiich was siinply an ingenious 
fraud from beginning to end. This corre- 
spondent demanded a handsome sum of money 


524 .4 MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' 8. 

for bis testimony, in order to enablediim to go 
to America and begin life again there. Evi' 
den ce that has to be bought is hot, as a rule, 
good for much, but that this man had some 
knowledge of the whole thing was soon evi- 
dent. He told us that Howden Craft had lost 
a very heavy sum of money during that week, 
which we knew to be true ; that he had been at 
his wits’ end as to how he was to pay it ; and 
further, that the defence was to consist of an 
alibi, of which he could point out the weak 
jdace. We agreed at length to his terms, and 
received a reply, in which he undertook to 
meet us at a certain tavern near the Law 
Courts the day before the trial. He pleaded 
he ran a considerable risk of discovery in com- 
municating with us, and also that the whole 
line of defence might very likely be changed 
should discovery take place, and that he would 
then be of no further use to us. What took 
place I don’t know, but that was the witness 
who failed us at the last moment. Those are 
facts, Mr. Horwich. I suppose now you can 


A MEMtlEn WE TA TTERS ALL’S. ZW 

guess who we imagine our correspondent to 
have been?” lu; • 

“Yes,” said the bookmaker; “I should think 
it would be that chap Clawson, who wasn’t 
forthcoming on their side either.” 'f 

The attorney nodded. “How the whole 
thing was done,” he continued, “is now trans- 
parent, and the proof of it all rests with Miss 
Clover. The dinner imdoubtedly took place, 
but not on the day named, and I have no 
doubt that the memi which guided Mr. Wel- 
side’s memory, guided also the memories of 
the rest of the party, and that they were all 
just as falsely dated as the ledger.” 

“There,” said the Colonel, somewhat impa- 
tiently, “that story is told, thank goodness. 
Now, Dawes, the question is what are you 
going to do next? How’s Howden Craft to 
be settled, squelched, made to clear out of 
Doncaster?” 

“I warned you,” replied Dawes, “that we 
must end in a compromise. Mr. Craft is a 
man we are not likely to frighten, and then, 
15 


22(j A MEMBER OF TATTERSALUS. 

Mr. Horwich/ you would not wishl^tliat Miss 
Clover should be placed in the witn^s-box. 
Her relations with Craft would necessarily 
have to be touched upon. ” 

The bookmaker’s countenance was troubled. 
Most assuredly, he did not wish Lizzie’s shame 
proclaimed to the world. 

“I presume,’’ said the attorney, ‘Hhat a 
reasonable sum of money can be found to ex- 
pedite Howden Craft's departure from Eng- 
land.” 

Gunnersley nodded, while Mr. Horwich ex- 
claimed vehemently : 

‘H’m good for a thousand, ay, maybe two, 
if you’ll promise to hunt that scoundrel out 
of England for me, but, mind you, ITl not 
pay him to go.” 

“Don’t be alarmed; not a shilling shall find 
its way into his pocket. We'll threaten to 
proceed against Mr. Abednego for perjury 
and compounding a felony. I have no doubt 
that he is one of those consummate rogues 
w'ho would sell his own mother if- he wms paid 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 237 

for it.rf 'I/Will then call upon him, show him 
that we have ■unravelled the whole conspiracy, 
and put it to him as a sensible man whether 
it wouldn’t be wiser to write us out a confes- 
sion of the/whole affair, accept five hundred 
pounds in payment for his trouble, and have 
all proceedings at once quashed against kina. 
Armed with that confession, I don’t think Mr. 
Howden Craft will give us much trouble.” 

Once more was the bookmaker filled with 
admiration for Mr. Daaves’ astuteness, and 
when the attc<rney announced his intention of 
starting the next day for Loudon, to set the 
necessary legal machinery in motion, and 
further of not returning until he had seen Mr\ 
Abednego, Mr. Horwich. at once settled to 
accompany him, and congratulating them- 
selves on having done a good morning’s work, 
the trio then separated. 


ir rrrr r; ^ -p "v; i 

j^f-o'-v r i ■ -Y ' ^ •;;.4 M fed;- k^lss% tM 

* ' ' " ■■• 

CONCLUSION. 

Great was tho -disappointment of Mr. Hor- 
wich when, on their arrival in town, he found 
that he was not to accompany the attorney to 
Bolt Court. He had looked forward to, seeing 
Dawes tackle Ahednego, much as he would 
have looked forward to the meeting of two 
mighty champions of the race-course, or as 
men, years ago, anticipated the classic battle 
of Farnborough, but the attorney was very 
rbsolute on the point. 

^‘It can’t be, Mr. Horwich, it can’t be. 
When a man, let him be ever so big a scoun- 
drel, is going to sell his friends, he doesn’t 
\vant witnesses to the transaction. No, Mr. 
Abednego and I will get on better by our- 
selves.” 

The money-lender was accustomed to being 

sought hy all sorts of strange clients on all 
228 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 229 

sorts of strange errands, but it was one of 
his rules that before he saw them he should 
know, at all events, what they called them- 
selves, and their occupation. It was quite as 
often “a bit of a note ” as a visiting-card, but 
it was more often true than false. Mr. Abed- 
nego enjoyed the reputation of being a man 
with whom it was hopeless to do business un- 
less you showed him your whole hand. All 
this Mr. Dawes had lately been made to un- 
derstand by the bookmaker, who finally added, 
“I don’t know, mind you, for certain, but I’ve 
an idea that ‘chaps in trouble’ often consult 
him.” 

No sooner did the lawyer’s card reach Mr. 
Abednego’s hands than his business was at 
once made clear. 

Mr. Dawes, 

Attomey-at-law, 

In re Craft, 

told the whole story; and having ordered the 
servant to show the gentleman up, he mur- 


230 A MEMBER OE TATTEBSALL'S^ 

mured to himself, “ Somebody’s got an inkling 
that alibi wasn’t quite genuine. This prom- 
ises to be a little unpleasant for Howden 
Craft.” 

No sooner did Dawes enter than the money- 
lender recognized him at once, although he 

• LiJ. 

had never set eyes on him since the trial. 

“Good-morning, Mr. Abednego,” said the 
lawyer. “Time is money, I’m quite aware, 
and therefore don’t supiwse I’m going to waste 
yours. Certain facts have lately come out 
with reference to the case I referred to on my 
card, which will enable us to prove that the 
alibi, to which you and three other gentlemen 
swore upon that occasion, was an utter fraud, 
and that you all four swore falsely.” 

“Quite so,” replied Mr. Abednego, as calmly 
as if swearing indifferently to what might be 
convenient was the usual custom. “What 
then?” 

“That being in possession of a clear case 
against you, we shall indict you all for per- 
jury.” 


_ ^ ^ , r'. " - ''jC P 

A^MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 231 

”No, you won’t,” replied Abednego. “I 
thoiught we weren’t to waste time.” 

You will find I don’t,” rejoined Dawes. “ If 
you will step to this window you will see a 
sergeant of police ^in the court. He has a 
warrant to -arrest you on that charge in his" 
pocket, and will execute it as soon as I leave 
the house.” 

*^He will do nothing of the kind, and you 
know it,” returned the money-lender coolly. 

“ Why can’t you come to the point? You’d 
not be such a fool as to come to me without 
having all the paraphernalia of the show 
ready. I’m not worth spending powder and 
shot bn. What good would it do you to put 
me in prison for a year or two? The man 
you want to get at is Howden Craft. He’s 
behaved very scurvily to me lately.” 

- The attorney remained silent. He was 
thinking what his next move had better be. 

“Better be open at once, Mr. Dawes, it 
saves time. Now, you no more want to pros-' 
ecute me for perjury than you do the Lord 


232 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 


Mayor. I never keep anj^thing that's not 
for sale, not even secrets.” 

If Mr. Dawes had been hesitating over his 
next move, Mr. Abednego was also thinking 
how much he should ask for his information. 
Five thousand pounds it was absurd to expect, 
for, though he affected to ignore it, he was 
quite aware that on that little matter of per- 
jury, to use his favorite simile, Mr. Dawes 
had got the rope round his neck. He had no 
ambition to try the prisons of his country ; still 
less to he recorded in the annals of the police. 

“If we drop this charge,” said Dawes at 
length, “will you confess the whole story of 
that alihif And we’ll give you an undertak- 
ing on our part ” 

“Bosh!” interrupted the money-lender; 
“never mind the undertaking; you give me 
two thousand pounds, and you shall have it 
in writing from end to end.” 

“Well, Mr. Abednego,” replied the attorney 
at last, “ we don’t want to revive the old scan- 


A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL'S. 233 

dal any more than you do ; the confession will 
serve our purpose just as well. Say a thou- 
sand pounds, and it’s a bargain.” 

“Ah!” exclaimed Mr. Ahednego, with a 
melancholy shake of his head, “ I’m afraid the 
old scandal must crop up again, and I must 
take my chance,” and as he said so it flashed 
across him how dearly he should like, meta- 
phorically, to give Howden Craft a rap over 
the knuckles. 

“Ah,” replied the attorney, picking up his 
hat meditatively, “I’ve gone to the utmost 
limit of my instructions and things must take 
their course. One consolation for you, Mr. 
Ahednego : the Craft case has shown us that 
the uncertainty of the law almost equals the 
uncertainty of the turf.” 

The money-lender was not in the least 
blinded by the attorney’s reference to “his 
instructions.” He felt certain that Mr. Dawes 
had carte blanche, but he also came to the 
conclusion that he meant to bid no higher. 


234 of TATTEJiSALL'S. 

and then to pay Howden Graft off in his own 
coin was a great temptation* otni oa mna 

“Stop/^ Mr. Dawes!” he exclaimed; ‘Hfe’a.a 
deal. Sit down again andnl’llitelj you the 
whole story, and you can put it; on paper. 
Craft, I suppose, is still at Doncaster?” 

“Yes,” replied the attorney, as he drew his 
chair to the table and took up a pen. Accord- 
ing to the money-lender the alibi was orig- 
inally Craft’s idea, but it was left for him, Mr. 
Abednego, to carry out the details. The fact 
of Lizzie holding a temporary situation at the 
Falcon Hotel had no doubt first suggested 
it to him. On the Thursday afternoon, the 
disaster of the Portland Plate had virtually 
broke Howden Craft, and he did not knoAv 
where to turn for money to meet his liabilities 
on the following Monday. To appeal to his 
uncle was useless ; he had helped him over and 
over again; but Mr. Elton was very cock-a- 
whoop about his unusual success, and had 
bragged openly in the smoking-room on the 
Thursday night that if Carlton won the cup 


AyMEMBER t^OF TATTERSALL S. 235 

the next day, he should have a real handsome 
sum to pay into the bank at Doncaster on Sat- 
urday. The evening papers on the Friday told 
him that his uncle’s selection had been suc- 
cessful, and Craft then determined that Mr. 
Elton’s winnings should never reach their des- 
tination. The dinner had taken place on 
Friday, the evening of the 16th. It had been 
ordered by Fletcher, at Craft’s instigation, 
early on the morning of that day. He, Mr. 
Abednego, had slipped into the dining-room 
a few minutes before dinner, and changed the 
properly dated menus then on the table for a 
similar set, the date of which had been filled 
in by himself, and of course corresponded with 
the entry made in the ledger. Fletcher and 
Brooklyn, he said, were entirely ignorant of 
the meaning of the fraud at the time, and he 
contrived that each of them should take away 
a menu in his pocket, believing, as Lizzie had 
told Mr. Horwich, that the mystification was 
for the sole purpose of winning a bet. Of 
course they realized what it all meant at the 


‘^36 A MEMBEB OF TATTERS ALL' S,^ 

trial, and nothing but the strong pressure put 
upon them about “Lady Teazle” kept them 
straight in the witness-box. 

Mr. Abednego’s ideas of keeping straight 
were peculiar. 

“As for Clawson, little blackguard,” con- 
tinued that gentleman, “he was a clerk in my 
office, whom I could trust to lie through any- 
thing, but that’s the worst of it; just as they 
become useful they become mercenary and 
they let you through. I discovered barely in 
time that he was in correspondence with your 
side, and had to ship him off to America. Cost 
me a lot of money, that did, but of course he 
had his price.” 

Mr. Abednego’s confession being at length 
satisfactorily got on paper and the conditions 
of the payment adjusted to his wish, that 
worthy appended his signature, and said he 
presumed that there was nothing more Mr. 
Dawes desired to be informed about. 

“No,” replied the attorney as he placed the 
money-lender’s statement in his pocket; “this 


AtMEMBEM UF TATTEMS ALL'S. 237 

I think will be quite sufficient for our purpose, 
and you need fear no further interference on 
the part of the law.” 

“Good-by, sir,” said Mr. Abednego. “I 
think I can make a pretty good guess as to 
what you’re driving at, but if I should chance 
to be mistaken and you have any business 
with Howden' Craft, I should advise you not to 
delay in getting through with it.” 

Mr. Dawes looked at him inquiringly. 

“I have an idea,” continued the money- 
lender, in reply to the attorney’s mute ap- 
peal, “ that Mr. Craft will not only leave 
Doncaster, but England, before many days are 
over.” 

“Ah, you know he’s at Doncaster?” said 
Mr. Dawes. 

“Yes, as long as he’s in England it will be 
always my business to know where he is and 
what he’s doing.” 

“ And you think ” said the attorney. 

“ That Howden Craft is an industrious young 
man,” interposed Mr. Abednego, “and not 




MEMBER OF TATTEBSALV8. 


giTen to waste time ^ as “iwe are^^ doing this 
minute. ”ou be 'ioa9*T -^arnnorci ;tX9n eri ei'-iio 

MneDawes took the hint, and,^ with a nod to 
the unabashed money-lender, he made the best 
of his way back too the ‘^Falcon,’ -where, ac- 
cording to appointment, Mr. Horwich wais 
anxiously awaiting him. 

The bookmaker was highly . delighted at 
Dawes’ account of the conference between 
him and Mr. Abednego. He hardly knew 
which to admire most, the man who had con- 
trived the rascally fraud or the man who had 
exposed it. And his regret that he had not 
been present at the tussle between them was 
keener than ever. 

‘^It beats cock-fighting, sir, or the closest 
set-to ever seen at Newmarket. It’s a great 
feather in your cap, Mr. Dawes. No man 
ever got to the bottom of Abednego and no 
man ever will, but you’ve gone as near to it 
as may be.” 

Mr. Dawes and the bookmaker returned to 
Doncaster by the afternoon train, and after a 


ylxMiiMBm OF TATTEBS ALL'S, 239 

^preliroiaaryj ©onference held at Mr. Dawes’ 
office the next morning, resolved to confront 
HQwdon vQraft at once.^ No sooner were the 
jnames of Colonel Gunnersley and Mr. Dawes 
brought in as waiting to see him on urgent 
business, than Craft scented danger in the air. 
The combination was ominous — he had no more 
..uncompromising foe in all Doncaster than the 
Colonel, and Dawes he knew well was his at- 
torney. He might have declined to see them, 
but for a note he had received that morning. 
Scoundrel he might be, but he was no craven, 
and had great confidence in the keenness of 
his wits when pitted against those of others. 
He glanced once more at the note the morn- 
ing’s post had brought him. He ground his 
teeth at the thought that the game was up, 
and the great coup he looked so near winning 
would never come off. ■; ■ 

“Dear Craft,” wrote the money-lender, 
c' it’s always a mistake in business to lose your 
temper. As I told you, I must have my little 


MO A MEMBER OF TATTERS ALL' 

perks, and you — well, I’ll only say were fool- 
ish about it. I have dealt now with the other 
side, who thought a good round sum down 
worth paying for the secret of our little puzzle. 
Mankind is sadly curious. I hope this won’t 
interfere with your schemes, but remember I 
offered to deal with you first. Always think 
twice before you decide a man is not worth 
buying. You shouldn’t forget that if I hadn’t 
bought Clawson at once you might have been 
^doing time’ now. 

“ Yours truly, 

‘‘D. A.” 

When the trio entered the room Craft was 
considerably puzzled by the appearance of Mr. 
Horwich. For a minute or two he did not 
remember him, and when he did, it was a 
vague recollection of his being a bookmaker 
with whom he had had some unpleasantness. 
He had no idea of the relationship between him 
and Lizzie. Mr. Dawes opened the proceed- 
ings as quickly as possible, by saying they held 


MEMBER OF TATTERSALV S. 2,41 

complete proofs that the by which he, 

Howden Craft, was acquitted of highway rob- 
bery was a fraud, in support of which assertion 
he had hest simply read the confession of Mr. 
Abednego, one of the witnesses to it. To this 
Craft willingly assented. He wanted time to 
think. When the attorney had finished, he 
said sharply : 

“And what’s all this precious farrago to 
me? What the deuce have I got to do with 
it? Even suppose this carefully concocted lie 
is all true, you as a lawyer know that I can’t 
be tried again.” 

“We believe it to be true,” returned Mr. 
Dawes, “and have plenty of corroborative 
evidence besides. We can’t try you, but 
we shall indict all your companions for per- 
jury.” 

Craft shrugged his shoulders as he replied : 
“ I can’t help it. I am sorry that innocent 
men should be put to such trouble on my ac- 
count.” 

“Innocent!” chimed in the Colonel sternly. 

16 


242 A MEMBEB'^OP fATfEBMWS: 

“IfcfMr. Abednego ■‘spoke truth in court, he’s 
lying consummately now.” '• 

“You must do as you please, gentlemen,” re- 
turned Craft calmly. 8 “As I say, it doesn’t 
concern me. ” {oi boiMayc; : dbneJ. i 8'ono or; 

rrt“ Not concern -you?” sa:id the Colonel. “ A* 
truce to all this nonsense. You understand 
perfectly well what we mean. You’ve come 
down here to marry MisssElton. "'Cl’m indict- 
ing yourb fellow-conspirators for perjury to 
stop it. No woman can^ be expected to keep 
faith with a murderer.” 

Craft winced under the taunt, for, though 
no actual murderer, he knew that the violence 
his uncle’s sturdy resistance had obliged him 
to use, had resulted in injuries that had at all 
events crippled him for life, ^'■'f- 

“For the sake of your family,” continued 
the Colonel, “ I’ll offer you this chance. Leave 
Doncaster to-day, and England within a week, 
and your companions shall go scot-free. Re- 
fuse, and I unearth the old scandal.” 

For a minute or two Craft hesitated. He 


4.J member iOF TATTERSALL'S. 243 

reflected that his opponents knew too much, 
that his chance of marrying his cousin was at 
an endvu. te 

“There’s a duty,” he said at last, “one owes 
to one’s friends. They stood loyally to me in 
my trouble; I am bound to save them from 
the odium and expense of refuting such a 

calumny. ”,ojl 

“One of your friends, at all events, don’t 
mean rgoing to much expense in defending 
himself,” sneered the Colonel. 

Craft cast a furious glance at him, but, 
profiting perchance by the advice of that eco- 
nomical friend, mastered his passion, and 
simply replied: “I leave Doncaster by the 
afternoon train.” 

“And England within the week?” said Mr, 
Dawes. 

Craft bowed his head in assent. 

“Well, I’m ! Of all the howling hypo- 

crites I ever saw,” exclaimed Mr. Horwich, 
“that chap takes the cake.” 


344 


A MEMBER OF TATTERSALL'S. 


Two years have passed and gone since then, 
and Howden Craft has never been seen in Don- 
caster since that afternoon. Miss Elton too 
disappeared one fine morning, but as she re- 
appeared as Mrs. Fladbury within half an hour, 
there was nothing but congratulations, much 
feasting, bell-ringing, rice and slippers flying 
about for the remainder of the afternoon. On 
the eve of Emily's marriage. Colonel Gunners- 
ley opened a letter which had been placed in 
his hands by John-' Elton, with directions that 
it was to be opened as soon as his daughter 
Emily was known to be positively engaged, 
and it was left to the Colonel’s discretion 
whether it should be ever communicated to the 
girl or not. In it John Elton said that he had no 
doubt as to who was his assailant, and, as proof 
of his belief, pointed to the revocation of his orig- 
inal bequest of ten thousand pounds to Howden 
Craft. He had further made his nephew’s leav- 
ing England immediately after the trial a con- 
dition of his silence on the subject. That his 
object was to effectually prevent a marriage 


AZMEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S. 345 

between! the cousins was "evident, and, that 
object attained, Gunnersley threw the letter 
into the fire and kept the contents to himself. 
-eAs for Lizzie Penistone, she yielded to her 
infatuation and was persuaded 'to accompany 
her lover into exile. He this time showed 
much"! worldly wisdom in marrying her, for 
she made a considerable stage success in 
America, and Howden Craft was neither the 
man to allow her to make insufficient terms 
with managers nor to neglect to draw her sal- 
ary when due. 


THE END. 



m} 













Tt. 


If"''*# * t^ - I 




I 






I/- 


• - > 


u« •• 






j f 


») 


>( 


;t 




' Sj 




•A f 


t. -w?* 

PC 




r^' 


•' •• H. • 

. 7 • 

tfk'r 

'*/' V)5j 


/■- ■ •. 


^ . * 


I '• 


p 1 


►i'r. 




& 




^#r ’ ^ i 

i'-vM 

r4^ . I i ■>. 9 


.t 


. • 




•V « 


.M* 






> y ‘ 


i,» 


0 ’•t. 


«~n < 

- « i5* Ti^ 

/ ♦ ^ V 


■ _.* 1 ' 




D •" ;. ■* 


; >1 


.,-. •’ * " ^ ^ 
At l-i^.» r 

^<Kr . Ao 


‘"V''"*'* 

^7^ ( '*» ; : ' .> ? ^ ^ ' 

-' ... * " 


A ^ • ' ‘i 


fV 


ff9 


&. 


-h 


•V 


a. *■: 


f * 




.*•' 


m' 




n- 


> 


f 'A 


> ’ .*♦ 


It ’, i 




^•V. 


'■•if . '«;•< 

, — -■ . , . 


•« 


^ Ik. 


. ' f.' • 


.1". 


u*l I 


fW 


1» ^ .,1- • 


r‘»' 


w 


■ -r 






•■it . ' 




r I m 

ii 


Aiss 




. V A, :,'*■■/- ^v 1 UMrS%: ■ , 

Ir.. j^*-- ^ ■- ' **■ * •,. »3H 








Ifv 




ITiVa^rSi - •d.^'-.'Lji'^ .Am'- ■ . 4-. ' • ” ^ y 




r<F3 




I'lL 






?iV 


<• 











MEMBER OF TATTERSALL’S 

A NOVEL 


BY 

HAWLEY SMART 

author ok 

“A FALSE START,” “FROM POST TO FINISH,” “LONG ODDS,’ 
“SADDLE AND SABRE,” ETC. 


NEW YORK 

LOVELL, CORYELL & COMPANY 

43, 45 and 47 east tenth street 






















































